The Melodramatic Ramblings of the Pyro
by Monkey Ruler
Summary: Sequel to the Pyrokinetic Pyrophobe: And of course, I put the burnt up chocolate wrapped in equally burnt foil in my pocket. Because even though it's a pitiful excuse for a gift, I can't part with something that Warren the Great has given me. WxOC
1. An Awkward Introduction

Warning: I own nothing but the few OC's I've created. This is a sequel, by the way, so if you want to know who the hell the main character is, read the Pyrokinetic with Pyrophobia first.

Valentine's Day.

The... Valentine's day.

I had a theory last year... A theory that only a lonely eighth grader could create.

Valentine's Day... Was created by robots.

Evil robots, bent on distracting the world completely.

One half of the population would be giggling and leaping across the world with their boxes of chocolates and the hands of their lovers. And the rest of their lovers, of course, but they'd be holding hands. They're not crazy enough to amputate their significant others and put everything but their hands into a blender.

I hope.

And the other half would wallow in their own self pity, wondering what it was that was so wrong with them that they couldn't have a hand and some chocolate to skip with. Well, a hand that wasn't their own and chocolate that they didn't buy for themselves out of depression.

And that's when the robots would attack!

Years into the future, the _other _depressed half would eventually off themselves out of loneliness! And then the first half would be too distracted and blinded by the bouquets of roses and chocolate that they wouldn't notice that every... single... chocolate is lined with poison!

We would all die, and the robots would rejoice!

But when I warned Warren about it before school, just in case any of those silly teenage girls working for the robots surrounding him got any funny ideas, he laughed!

Well, he snorted.

But it still hurt! And then he called me a lunatic and a shoved a burnt up chocolate kiss in my hands and walked off to Homeroom.

I don't want no burnt chocolate!

And of course, being as stupid and cheesy as I am, I put the burnt up chocolate wrapped in equally burnt aluminum foil in my pocket. Because even though it's a pitiful little thing, I can't part with something that Warren the Great has given me.

In fact, I don't think he's ever given me anything in the months that we've known each other. It's always me that's feeding him. I am done being a giver today! I'll just feed him the chocolate cake I made him yesterday and that'll be it.

... Did I honestly just say that?

The robots are not going to have any pity on me this year.

* * *

It started out a relatively normal day, aside from Sparky completely creeping me out this morning. Drool over Mr. Sparrow, exhaust myself from doing nothing in gym, that basic nothingness that establishes my life. It wasn't until I was making my way to the library that my normal routine was thrown off balance.

No, it wasn't Lash offering me blue roses. He's already left those inside my locker. How he got into my locker, I don't want to find out.

It was a tall, skinny blond in various shades of blue and white, despite it being Valentine's Day. All the boys were wearing red, even Glow Boy, blending in with Warren's highlights. And all of the girls were wearing the cheap imitation of red. Pink. But, obviously, this girl liked blue as much as I did. It was like she was a nicer, prettier, more innocent version of me.

Is that jealousy I sense in myself?

"You're Emily, Warren's friend, right?"

Fairly creeped out from signs of recognition, I nodded my head instead of saying what I wanted to. Did she want to know if I was Emily or if I was a friend of Sparky?

"I'm Jamie Frost. I freeze things."

Heh. Frost. Freeze... Heh.

"Okay." I never realized how unbelievably _awkward _silence could be, despite how much it was spoken of.

"So, um, are you going out with him?"

"With who?" There were three boys whom she could be speaking of, but the one she was probably concerned with was probably the one that I concerned myself with the most. Did everyone love him or something?

"Warren."

"No, no," I defended, rather hastily, "I just feed him."

"Really? You two seem like you're dating. You're the only one I see with him other than Will." Ah, patriotic boy. I can't believe such polar opposites could be best friends.

"We're too alike to date." As in neither of us were ever going to talk about _those _types of feelings.

"Oh. Okay." This is awkward.

"So," I trailed off before regaining my purpose, "Is there any reason for the awkward conversation?"

"I'm an... old friend of Warren's." That sounded so _depressing_.

"He's not dead, you know."

"I'm probably dead to him, though."

"Ex?"

"Is it obvious?"

"You could've been screaming from the roof that you weren't over him, and it still wouldn't be as obvious." A little much, but it proves my point.

"Well, I guess I didn't completely move on yet, but before... It was hard, seeing him all alone. I guess it's better that you're with him. I just couldn't stand seeing him all alone."

"So you just don't want him alone? No big catfight coming?" I may not like fire, but I think being frozen would be much, much worse.

"No catfight," She smiled, showing off those pearly whites, "I just want to see him happy He'd probably roast me alive if I ever told him that, though. Don't tell him I said this, but he's really sweet. He just has this big shell around him, you know? That's why we broke up. We just weren't close."

"So you two broke up because he's a teddy bear with razor blades?" She laughed, seeming less timid and awkward.

"You're okay, you know that, freshman?" Yup. She did have a personality. Damn, I bet she could beat me at everything.

"I try not to brag."

And then the bell rang. Instead of doodling another masterpiece, I spent it talking about... Warren Peace. As if I weren't already depressed enough from caring about his 'gift'.

Author's Note: Yes! I've started the story so soon. It's going to have about ten more chapters, making a big huge thirty, and none of you are going to recognize the lyrics because they're completely original! The song last time only matched the story when I first thought of it, and then the two became polar opposites. Hopefully I'll be able to keep the vibe this time.  



	2. Tension and Sprinklers

"Happy hearts, Emily!" A happy voice said from behind me, a cloud of pink balloons tainting my senses. That was the strangest greeting I've gotten in years, the only exception being when I was in sixth grade and this snotty kid with a rolling backpack jumped in front of me and honked my nose. It turns out he had a crush on me, and that was his way of saying 'Be mine'... 

The cloud of pink sat down next to me, sharing my yoga mat since the pink thing obviously forgot his own. Yes, it was a he, because only one person could forget to bring a yoga mat that was in his locker. The extremely pale face that I've been having a love-hate relationship with for a few months now. In a friendship way, of course.

"Quinn,_please _don't tell me you ordered a bunch of girls to give you their gifts."

"Okay, I won't." He said simply with a huge smile.

"You didn't! That's not just creepy, that's... that's-"

"I won't, because I didn't. Girls just naturally love me."

"Don't cut me off in the middle of a rant!" The nerve of him.

"Just stopping you before you said something stupid." He grinned at me, showing that there was something in the world whiter than his hair; his teeth. Then he handed me a huge blue heart shaped box.

"It's blue?" I asked, unable to stop grinning like an idiot. Nothing on Valentine's was blue.

"Just for you."

"Suck up." I teased.

Wait.

Was he working some hypno magic again? Because I swear that I could hug this boy, as desperate for my company as he is. I could just imagine a little voice in his head, going 'hug me... hug me...'

The girl on the yoga mat next to us scoffed and I raised an eyebrow at her. It wasn't like she was reading my thoughts or anything, Quinn and I were just in a companionable silence. And I was trying not to hug the little worm.

"Now, position yourselves in the lotus position and relax. Feel your chakras align themselves..."

"Hey... Emily." How did scoffing girl know my name? "I can read minds."

Oh, shit.

"Yeah, that's right. I know about your little crush on Warren."

What? What crush? And I don't think about him at all! It was just today, with the chocolate, which is nothing compared to the giant blue heart, by the way.

"Yeah right. He's been a constant in your mind for weeks and it's driving me insane. You're worse than the other girls with crushes because at least they can admit it to themselves!" She yelled in a whisper, rolling her eyes. I bet her chakras hadn't aligned themselves yet.

"Hey, what's that girl whispering about?" Quinn whispered.

"I have no clue." Why was she bringing all this up, anyway?

"Because you've been projecting thoughts of Warren this and Warren that ever since he gave you that crappy bit of burnt up chocolate and it's driving me nuts!"

That wasn't so much of a whisper.

* * *

"Do you have a crush on him?" Quinn asked out of the silence that now made up the classroom. Even the teacher couldn't resist some good ol' gossip and stayed quiet.

I glared at the mind reader, who was now blushing from the outburst._She _was blushing? Probably from all the torture methods flashing through my mind right now.

"What kind of question is that to ask someone?" I said instead, fearing what would happen to me if I said no. I always had a horrible time lying to anyone, and I didn't want to know if saying I didn't have a crush on him would be a lie or not.

"A perfectly logical one, seeing as a telepath said that you were thinking about him constantly." The fourteen year old _pouted,_but I spared a bit of pity for him since he gave me an expensive box of chocolate wrapped in my favorite color and apparently I was thinking about Warren.

I was thinking of some way to answer the question when the fire alarm went off and the sprinklers poured down on everyone. No one paid any more attention to me and instead opted for running out into the halls screaming.

Thank god for small miracles.

* * *

"So..." Will trailed off, looking at his best friend with an innocent expression. "You've been awfully quiet today."

They were in Power Theory, a class which was required for all Sophomores to take. Not that they minded, of course. The man who taught the course was a feeble man who had a sleep disorder, causing him to fall asleep every five minutes or so. There were rumors that he never actually left the school, but whenever the students attempted to spy on him and find out, they grew too bored and found ways to get off of the floating school. The man was as boring awake as he was asleep.

The tables were long like in Science classes, allowing friends to sit together and gossip as need be. Which Warren and Will, best friends with names starting with the same letter, were taking full advantage of. Not the gossiping, for they were tough men, but the talking. Which tough men of their status were allowed to do.

"Sorry that I'm not updating you on the latest gossip." Warren snarled sarcastically, doodling swirls that resembled flames on his already singed notebook.

"Layla was really excited when I gave her a potted plant instead of a bouquet. I figured she'd be a little put off if I gave her dead flowers," He said, knowing full well that his friend was dying a little inside, the only exception for conversations about his girlfriend being when Will made a huge mistake he didn't know about and Warren had to talk some sense into him. "Did you give Emily anything?"

The tip of Warren's pen immediately snapped, spilling ink all over his paper that might've actually contained notes on whatever subject it was for, and a steady stream of curses escaped his mouth as he grimaced at the sticky black substance.

"Is that a yes?"

A few choice words were directed at the brightly colored boy before directing his obscenities back towards the ruined page now ripped out of the beaten notebook before any more of the pages could be ruined.

"Ah, okay." Will said, completely oblivious to his friend's struggles.

Warren was now tearing out blank pages to wrap up both the bleeding pen and the page of dripping ink, using some of the clean paper as napkins. Still cursing, of course. Thankfully, the teacher was currently in a deep sleep. You could tell by the snoring.

"What did you get her?" Will asked, having a suspicion of what Warren's reaction would be. Violent.

His hands clenched fists immediately, realizing to late that one of them contained his almost finished paper ball that was carefully cradling the mess of ink deep inside. Groaning at the ink now dripping all over his hands, he was thankful he wore a t-shirt for once without the fingerless gloves. The smears littering his fingers were one thing, but the oozing mess in his palm was just gross.

"Warren?" Will prodded, still expecting an answer.

"I got her some chocolate, Stronghold." He ground out, feeling bits of flames tickling his skin. The smell of burning ink did not comfort him as much as he thought, though, because it looked like there was some chemical reaction in the making. What kind of shit did they put in the ink nowadays?

"Really? I didn't see you carrying a box, and I don't think anything is safe in your backpack."

"I had it in my hands on the bus." He said, as if the fact that he were clutching a small bit of chocolate in his fists were obvious.

"It must've been really small."

"It was one of those small Reese's things they sell at 7-11." Warren admitted.

Will could do nothing but blink at him for a second before stifling a chuckle.

"What?" His glaring question was a warning, one that most within a ten mile radius would pay heed to.

Will, however, was not most. He was one of few who were damn near indestructible and have proved themselves to be fire-proof. Ish. The fact that Will was an equal to him in power was one of the reasons why Warren accepted him, but the fact that he was no longer afraid of him still proved to bite him in the ass sometimes.

"That's not really a way to get into a woman's good graces."

"And you would know?" Warren scoffed.

"Well, Layla's been my girlfriend for over a year." He bragged with a slight blush.

"Layla's head over heels for you and would love you even if you tried to burn down the rainforest."

"But would kill me if I didn't get her something nice for the holidays requiring gifts. Not that she'd ever admit she cared about things like that."

Warren rolled his eyes and stayed silent, his arms smoking slightly. True, it wasn't an extravagant gift, and there were little burn marks from when it was clutched in his fist and he was arguing with himself over whether or not to actually give it to her, but while he was looking at the limited selection of Valentine's gifts in the drug store, he felt a little too pathetic.

A various range of men in all ages were surrounding him, desperate to find something to please their girlfriends or wives. They probably only realized that it was Valentine's day when they saw all the pink hearts and lace.

So, in a hurry to get away from all the men making grabs at the overpriced chocolate, Warren grabbed for the tin of individually wrapped Mini-Reese's and made his way to the counter. It was only twenty five cents, meaning that Warren still had a eighty cents in his pocket to spare.

Besides, Emily appreciated it, right? He figured that she'd be more disappointed with nothing then a burnt little cheap something. Not that he had a crush on her, he just figured that since they were friends they had a right to make the other one feel better about themselves. But he wasn't going to give Will any Be Mine hearts anytime soon.

"Are you _still _in denial?" Will sighed. He was only trying to help Warren after his past relationship ended so quickly. Will owed his best friend that, seeing as the fire producing super was the reason that Layla and him finally got together.

"I'm not in denial about anything."

"Then ask her out."

"No."

"Why not?"

Warren knew that any excuse similar to 'I don't like her like that' would only make Will talk even more, so thought a moment about what he could say.

"I don't ask people out. Ever." It was true, in a way. With Jamie, there were no words needed. Her hand froze up, his hand burned up, and it was just decided they would dance. And at the end of the dance, it was just decided that they would go out. He didn't even hear her speak until the next day.

"You know, I saw that white haired guy. The guy that first played with her in Save the Citizen with the voice that almost killed you." Warren scowled, remembering how he couldn't manage to control his own breathing. "He was carrying a blue box of candy today."

Warren's scowl deepened, knowing only one person who would enjoy something blue more than the typical colors.

"And Lash had blue roses."

That was the final straw. He could feel himself power up in rage against his will, staying eerily quiet as the smoke alarm detected a fire. A bit overdue, for how long his back was steaming, but the raging inferno quickly died down from the sprinklers. A precaution installed after Will and him had their showdown in the cafeteria. The students were now supposed to gather in the entrance just in case there was an actual attack on the school, another precaution installed because of the Royal Pain fiasco. Everyone quickly vacated the room, eager to get away from the fire hazard, and the teacher awoke enough to stumble out of the classroom.

He cast a glance to the soaking wet Will who had fallen to the ground in shock and smirked, getting over a bit of his anger. Anger, not jealousy. Lash was a cowardly jerk who was only trying to hurt Emily, and Warren was right in his frustration towards the senior.

Will was quick to recover, though, and shook his head like a dog before standing up.

"So it's settled then. You'll ask her out before they do."

He really was a pain in the ass sometimes.

* * *

You know, a girl would really appreciate a warning before getting soaking wet.

I mean, a fire alarm with sprinklers throughout the entire school? Not just the room where the actual fire was in, but the _whole school_?

This was not a good day to be wearing a pleated skirt and a tank top. I was not looking forward to re-ironing this stupid lower garment, and I didn't bring a jacket. So as my combat boots were squeaking across the wet tile floor and trying not to slip, I was pretty damn cold.

I was following the surge of screaming students racing towards the exit, hiding with Quinn under his massive amount of balloons. The pink cloud did have it's perks, even though the loud boom of the weaker ones popping from the intensity of the pouring water didn't make me feel too great.

It was funny to see the majority of the girls with their makeup streaming down their faces, though. Some even had foundation that was most _definitely _not waterproof.

"Aha!" Quinn shouted through the screaming, grinning at me, "I knew your hair was too straight to be true!"

I cursed, realizing that the ceiling rain had indeed ruined my morning's labor and that little curls were noticeable to the naked eye. Then I looked at his hair, plastered to his forehead. Completely flat.

"Atleast I don't look bald. You're so white that your hair blends into your skin!" I had my backpack clutched to me, protectively covering the box of chocolate and keeping it safe from the water. What can I say? Chocolate is expensive now.

We burst out of the entrance and I smiled at the sunlight, considering the possibility of a jig.

"Are you shivering?"

"I'm soaking wet, Quinn. What do you think?" I ground out, my jaw occasionally twitching from how incredibly cold it was.

He sighed and took of his thick hoodie, revealing another jacket underneath, which he took off to reveal two layered shirts. He took of the t-shirt and I could see a glimpse of the strap to a wifebeater. I blinked in an attempt to take in all the layers.

He handed me the t-shirt and the jacket, putting his hoodie back on, which was probably only soaked halfway.

"How do you get dressed for PE?" I asked in wonder.

"I just take everything off in one big swoop." He grinned, motioning for me to accept the clothes.

"Why are you shoving your layers at me?"

"Because they're dry."

"You're literally giving me the clothes off of your back?"

"Well, I already gave you chocolate."

I laughed and, while I felt bad about taking his clothes, the tanktop was wet and clinging to me and it wasn't all that thick. And I was wearing a rainbow colored bra, which I caught his eyes wandering to every five seconds.

You know that neat trick in camp you learn when you don't want everyone to see what God gave you? I put his shirt on first, and then peeled the wet tank top off. But I perfected the camp technique and pulled it out through the ridiculously baggy shirt so the bottom had less chances of riding up. Yes, I was that insecure in camp.

The jacket was nice and warm, a welcome change from being sad and wet.

"Emily!" I heard a familiar voice call out my name and immediately snapped my head towards the direction it was coming towards. I saw red, white, and blue, along with more red and a lot of black. "You're... In some guy's clothes." Will, who I found awkwardly sarcastic after being forced to hang out with him because of Warren, was eyeing me strangely with Warren behind him, who was glaring at Quinn. I bet he doesn't like the pink either.

"Yeah, I was cold so Quinn gave me some of his layers." Warren's glare seemed to intensify, and I figured it was probably from the idea of Quinn stripping, "Don't worry, he still has plenty of clothes underneath that hoodie."

I heard Will mutter something along the lines of the two of you, whoever you was, being hopeless before walking off with the excuse of searching for his girlfriend, leaving me, Quinn, and Warren standing there awkwardly.

I haven't gotten any of them gifts, have I? Dammit.

AN: It's not romance without a little bit of denial. Hopefully Warren wasn't too OOC. He rarely spoke in the movies, so it's hard to get his personality right.


	3. The Sad Life of a Playboy

"So..." Quinn trailed off, always the first to crack under the pressure of awkward silences. 

I raised an eyebrow, shuffling a bit in the human triangle the three of us formed.

"Yeah?" I asked, Warren staring off into space and looking badass.

"How's your day been?"

"Before or after I was soaked to the bone?" The wet skirt and undergarments were still uncomfortable, as warm as Quinn's shirt was.

"Ah, sarcasm. Got it."

Our attempts at conversation came to a stop and we were all standing there, everyone talking and moving around us. I've always hated being friends with two people who hated each other but still insisted on being with you when the other was around, resulting in a glare match. Because, honestly, I was the only one feeling awkward. The other two were just glaring at each other.

"Betty!" I yelled, spotting the shy fellow freshman who I rode the bus with. She had gone to homecoming with Quinn, but other than a few Save the Citizen matches, the two had ignored each other completely.

The girl smiled, her eyes sparkling through her thick rimmed glasses, and walked over to me. Quinn's eyes flickered away from Warren's for a second to spare Betty a quick grin, but then resumed his staring contest with the local hothead.

"Boys." I shook my head at the male population before smiling at Betty, "So which class have you escaped from?"

"Algebra 2 Trig." She shrugged and I noticed her hunched over a crisp notebook, only a few drips of water staining the cover.

"Damn. I'm only in Geometry. How'd you get so smart?"

"Father says that saving the world doesn't pay the bills."

"Unless the government forms a superteam. Then they pay for everything for you." Will popped up from nowhere with his girlfriend in hand, and the boys decided to put a halt to their glaring contest to make way for the Patriotic Boy.

"Hi!" Layla introduced herself to Betty with a smile, "I'm Layla Greenleaf."

"Betty Guthrie."

"Oh, are you the daughter of Cannonball?" She asked, appearing excited.

She blushed and nodded, looking away as I decided that I knew nothing about supers. I mean, I never even heard of my own parents until I had a talk with Mr. Sparrow.

"My mom said that they were partners in crime awhile back, before the mutant rights movement."

"Mutant rights movement?"

The two of them stared at me like I was born in a cave, which was close to the actual truth, and the three boys stopped their manly conversation about cars or whatever to also look at me like I was stupid.

"What? Mr. Sparrow doesn't talk about those things. He likes pirates."

"We learned about the mutant rights movement in elementary school." Betty mentioned, turning red when Layla smiled at her.

"Oh. Was I supposed to remember all that?"

The bell rang, saving me from digging myself deeper into a hole of stupidity, and I hurriedly made my way back inside the school to get my backpack. I don't understand why they all cared so much about my complete disregard for the knowledge of history. All their was was depression, racism, and death. I had enough of the past when the male authority figure at home had me watch a documentary on the holocaust.

I did not need to see an authentic Nazi "lamp shade". Ever.

"Betty, you transferred into my math class, right?" Layla asked as their group walked to the cafeteria. They had grabbed their backpacks once the sprinklers came on, unlike their unprepared blue haired friend.

She nodded, a little flustered from the recognition.

"I was a little confused on the homework last night."

"Which problem?" She squeaked out with a blush.

"Well, the last four questions had me completely confused. I can memorize the name of every plant I've come across, but when it comes to finding the values of unknown shapes with nothing but variables to go on, I'm completely stumped."

Betty seemed to peek a bit out of her shell, seeing herself on familiar ground, and proceeded to explain the concept that Layla was stuck on in detail.

Warren and Quinn rolled their eyes in unison at the lack of interesting conversation before glaring at each other with the idea that they weren't allowed to agree on anything. Of course, they didn't know that they were agreeing to constantly disagree.

Will was content to walk next to his girlfriend, holding her hand and not even bothering to understand what the small girl was prattling on about. Layla seemed to get the confusing words, but Will was more of a business man than a mathmetician. Real estate paid better, anyway.

* * *

When the group got to their usual table with Warren's own separate table a little off to the side, all math confusion aside, I was already leaning over my usual spot to argue with Zach about the pros and cons of chopstick. 

"Dude, how can you eat soup with chopsticks? Wait for it to soak into the wood and then suck on it? What if you're using plastic, man!" His girlfriend rolled her eyes, her Asian ancestors shaking their heads at her bad choice in men.

"You don't drink the soup with chopsticks. You get the solid bits with the chopsticks and then lift the bowl to drink the liquid."

"Why not just use a spoon to get both of them? Using chopsticks is stupid."

"Just because you can't balance two wooden sticks in your hands doesn't mean that you should write something off as stupid." Magenta said, shutting her boyfriend up.

Warren sat across from me, wordlessly accepting the food laid out for him, and started eating with a pair of chopsticks. Zack huffed and stabbed his sidekick steak with his fork, showing that American utensils were useful.

Quinn, instead of walking off to the group of giggling girls he usually sat with, decided instead to sit next to me. Warren growled, a little smoke rising off the tattoos on his wrists. But other than that he stayed silent, scooping rice into his mouth.

"Quinnie, I feel special, really, but you're breaking so many hearts." I commented, pointing towards the group of shocked girls who looked like their dreams were being crushed. They were probably the ones who gave him so many balloons.

"I'm afraid to go within ten feet of them." He shuddered. "Not only did they pile on ten times more perfume as yesterday, but whenever I go near them they just cling to me."

"I thought you liked the attention."

"Yeah, but not when they fight over me." I raised an eyebrow, "Silently fight over me by seeing who can dig their nails into me the deepest."

I snorted.

"Ah, the sad life of a playboy."

"Damn straight."

Author's Note: Sorry I've only replied to a few of the review lately, if at all. Not only am I socially retarded, but... Well, yeah, I'm socially retarded. And school is keeping me pretty busy, too.

Layla still didn't have much in the story, but it's a start, right? I'll try and not just focus on Warren and Emily. I'll spread the love.


	4. Hopelessly and Unbelievabely Lost

I'm lost. I'm lost, I'm lost, I'm lost, I'M LOST!

Okay, no, I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am, I just don't know how where I am can end up with me getting home. See, the thing is is that I have no bus money. And while this isn't so important, it kind of is. Usually, after random bus driver drops me off at a certain point I have to take the subway to some place where I will then walk a short distance to my house.

Complicated, I know.

But someone must have stolen my bus/subway money or something, because it's not there and because of that the bus driver kicked me out! So I was like, screw that menopausin' bizznitch. I'm going to walk to my house.

Yeah, that was my first mistake. Or second... You can never be too careful.

Because instead of following the bus route for an hour or so until I got to familiar ground, I had the "general direction" of where my house was in my head and just walked in that direction.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

My feet hurt, my skirt's still wet, and while Quinn's clothes are really warm, they're also really big and I keep having to pull up the neckline to avoid flashing the old hobos.

And it's getting dark. Woe is me.

I really have to stop screwing myself so royally. Maybe I should actually _think _before I do something.

Yeah, like that's going to happen anytime soon.

Wait, I see someone familiar. A brooding, tall something with a leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. I've never seen him at school with no sleeves, though. He makes it a point to hide the flame tattoos on his arm whenever there are teachers around.

"Warren!" I yelled, running over to him as fast as I could.

He turned around and his eyes widened at the sight of me jumping on him.

"I thought that I was going to be kidnapped and raped and die a horrible painful death in the middle of nowhere!"

Raising an eyebrow, he gently pried me off of him and looked at the shaking mess that I was reverted to in these dark hours.

"Perkins." His voice effectively cut me off and he had yet to remove the hands from my shoulders, "What the hell are you talking about?" I didn't answer, but instead clung to him and steadied my breathing, "My house is a block away. You can hyperventilate all you want there

He cast a glance around for the shady characters that didn't exist and led me to his dwellings. I knew I recognized the grafitti littered walls. The only difference was this time I was walking instead of in a cab. A well protected cab that... protected... innocent bystanders from the thugs that were usually unheard of in a happy place called Maxville.

* * *

"Why aren't you sitting at home giggling over rock stars?" He asked as soon as we were inside his red, black and white room.

His mother, after greeting me with enthusiastic familiarity, ushered us both to his room with a knowing smile. She was almost as bad as my mother, only without the dirty innuendos.

"I got lost." I shrugged with a guilty smile, "My money was missing and I thought that I could walk home but I couldn't and I've been wandering for hours and do you know where I live?"

"Your house isn't that far."

"It is when I'm used to taking public transportation."

"I'll walk you home, then."

"What happened to your bike?" He managed to turn a small shade of pink, something which I fought to not 'aw' over.

"It's not mine." He mumbled, turning away from me, "I was keeping it safe for a cousin."

"And you just happened to drive it everywhere."

"I didn't crash it." He defended to my slight smile.

"Whatever. Do you have a phone I can borrow?" I asked sweetly, batting my eyes.

"I might." He shrugged, throwing his jacket towards his desk before stretching in his manly pro-abuse tanktop (a wifebeater) and laying down on his bed.

"You might?" I repeated, trying to not stare.

"If you promise to answer one- no, three- questions, truthfully, at any time. No changing the subject or giving a half-assed answer." He raised an eyebrow and stared at my bemused expression, "Got it?"

"Got it. Now give me the phone."

* * *

"Mark, come _on_." I whined into the phone Warren so graciously let me borrow.

"I was waiting for hours, Emily." He protested, "It was getting dark and I was just about to call the police!"

"I told you already, I got lost! Maybe if I had a _cell phone_," I hinted not so subtly.

"Fine." He sighed. "We'll get you one this weekend."

Wait a minute. Was he actually agreeing to get me a cellphone?

"And, you know," I pushed with a bright smile, "Maybe if I had an mp3 player I'd do better in school." I heard both Warren and Mark snort at the thought and I glared at the only one I could see.

"Explain to me this logic." Mark said, his smile heard through the phone.

"Well, if I had something to listen to while I was doing work at school, preferably that new Nine Inch Nails CD," I dropped another hint, but this blatant advertising of things I wanted wasn't my fault. My birthday was next month. "Then I would be able to concentrate more often."

"I'll think about it." He grunted, meaning that he would actually think about it. Maybe in a few years, but he would still think about buying it for me.

"What the hell are you smoking?" I asked, halting for a second before asking another question, "And can you smoke it more often?"

He spared me a chuckle before ignoring my important questions and asking some of his own.

"When are you coming home?"

I looked at Warren with a raised eyebrow, to which he raised an eyebrow back at me. Then I realised that he didn't have super hearing and rolled my eyes.

"I'll walk home in a bit, okay?"

"I won't blame you if you decide to sleep over. It _is_ Friday." He said, not knowing that I was at a boy's house. Mainly because I only referred to Warren as 'a friend from school.'

"I'll think about it, Mark. G'night, then."

"I'll see you later."

Hanging up on him, I handed the phone back to Warren and sat next to him on his bed.

"So, how was work?" I asked after a long pause of silence.

"Before or after I finished bussing the tables?" He asked, mumbling instead of growling.

"Yeah, I don't think being a busboy is all that exciting either. I don't know why Quinn's so thrilled to work at In-N-Out Burger. You can get the paper hats anytime." My thoughts wandered for a bit, paying no attention to Warren at all until I had an actual question to ask him, "Why do you hate Quinn?"

A flame ignited next me, a very large flame, and I screamed and fell to my right in an attempt to get as far away from it as possible. A bit dramatic compared to my past reactions, but it was _right bloody next to me_ and I had no warning at all.

"Sorry." Warren mumbled, looking away and extinguishing the flames on his arm as quickly as it came.

"Don't mention it." I said shakily, rising to my feet and attempting to steady my quivering limbs.

"You're in shock now." He sighed, gliding towards me and brushing back some of the hair on my face. The quivering wasn't so much out of fear now, which made me beyond pissed at my emotions. My hormones, in particular.

"No, really, don't mention it. I've made a Valentine's Day resolution to not pass out again under any circumstances." He spared my a small smirk and put his hands on both of my arms, still probably thinking that I was shaking from the shock. I, for one, thought that the unneeded contact was only making the shaking situation worse.

"Any circumstances?" He questioned, leading me to his bed.

I sat down gratefully, glad that I didn't have to rely on my legs anymore, and blushed when he took a seat next to me.

Damn my hormones.

I scooted a little away from him, and he, unfortunately, noticed. The small smirk on his face disappeared completely and the air grew a little colder. His previously relaxed demeanor grew stiff and he stood up abruptly, choosing to lean against his wall and stare off into space. He probably thought that I was afraid of him now, or something stupid like that. Which wasn't all that stupid, if you thought about it, seeing how I told him multiple times that I was deathly afraid of fire and had only stomached the sight of it during Save the Citizen. And twice I passed out, either from facing my imminent death of the pit of razors or from an overexertion of the powers that I hated to use.

Anyone in my place would confront the situation and apologize for making it seem like I was afraid of him now instead of actually being afraid of how good I felt when around him, or become extremely awkward and stammer my way back into safe ground, but I decided long ago that I was automatically suicidal when it came to life. And run-on sentences.

So, with nothing decided at all (which really didn't surprise me), I walked over to his wall of brooding and hugged him in an effort to show that no, I was not afraid of him.

That and he felt really good and he couldn't see me blush if my head was buried in his shoulder. He smelled good too.

He didn't hug me back, of course. That had only happened once. So he just stood there, completely confused as to what was going on.

"Even though you're a brooding mess most of the time and you have the social knowledge of a deaf dog, you're the best friend I've ever had."

And Warren Peace, in all his masculinity, reluctantly returned the hug despite the insults that I just slung into that compliment.


	5. Slumber Party!

"And then, after she said that my thoughts were annoying her, she practically yelled my private thoughts to the entire class!" I exclaimed raising my arms into the air.

I was currently sprawled out across the foot of his bed, my head in the center width-wise and my legs hanging off. Warren was with his sketchpad (not only were there books, guitars, leather jackets, and overall dreaminess piled around his room, but artsy crap too! I could drool over this man, honest,) at the head against his wall, his legs threatening to squash me at any moment should he choose to.

"Secrets?" He scoffed, "What secrets could you have that she'd care to tell anyone? Blue not your real hair color?"

He nudged my hair with his foot, which I swatted away because as hot as he was, I don't like feet touching things near my head.

It's just a thing I had, probably from when this really smelly girl at the first sleepover party I went to in my whole life rolled over in her sleeping bag (which was unzipped, by the way, releasing her stench openly to the world) and shoved her foot right in my face. My eyes watered and I woke up crying my eyes and punched the offending foot away from me, causing her to cry as well. It really wasn't my fault. I mean, if the girls weren't so mean and deliberately positioned everything so my sleeping bag was next to her stink and everyone else was a good distance away, I'd never have to break her pinky toe with my fist.

Honest.

"Please, I'm a complex individual. I have tons of secrets that you don't know about."

"Really. Indulge me."

"They wouldn't be secrets if I told you. Read the dictionary every once in awhile, Peace." I stared at the dots on the ceiling, making an odd connection to the closter of dots and Elvis Presley's hair.

He wisely kept silent, not using my three honest answers to his advantage. I didn't know what the hell I'd say, anyway.

We spent a few minutes in silent, the only noise being the scratching of his pencil. It was relaxing, in an odd way. It's been awhile since I've stopped to smell the roses. Or see the dots on the ceiling.

You know, when I first came to high school I was just itching for a bunch of drama, and I thought that there'd be plenty of it. I mean, please. It's a super school. Of course there's going to be drama. But as time goes on, I'm getting kind of tired of it. I haven't finished my high school check list, but now I'm not sure I even want to. I don't even know what to check off, even. I've got a few good friends, but none of them are the pour-your-heart-out-and-talk-about-boys kinda friends. Unless you count Sparky, and I can't tell you how disturbed I am by that. And then there're the rivals who're set to making my life miserable, which hasn't happened yet. Unless you count that weird Penny girl, and she just glares at me in the halls and attempts to insult me. Not so much the Draco Malfoy to my Harry Potter.

And then there's the love interests. I'd like to say that there are three boys interested in me, but the modest and humble (and honest) side of me just refuses to believe that any boy likes me. Despite being hit on multiple times by two out of three.

There's Quinn, who's just a sweetie. He did give me all them chocolates, and even though I haven't eaten them yet (since I'm not sure how Sparky'll react if I start eating them in front of him) it was really sweet of him. And it was blue! I don't know what went on between him and Molly, though. They looked adorable together and he won't tell me what happened between them.

Then there was that other boy who knew my love of blue. Lash. I haven't really spoken to him since he saved me from Penny, and he hasn't tried to talk to me either. Speed has no problem taunting me, however. Apparently I'm a socially retarded spineless blue-loving freak with too much hair dye and not enough makeup to cover up my ugly excuse of a face. He's just mean. I think Lash has moved on, though. I've seen him talking to this one girl in the halls, teasing her and all that fun stuff little boys do when they can't tell girls they like them. I think she's even related to Speed, only she's skinny. That'd be cute. Falling in love with the best friend's little sister. Okay, I don't like him then. That's good.

But then there's that boy. Guy. _Man. _Sitting next to me in silence and acting like nothing's happening. Nothing _is _happening, mind you, but how can he act so -- casual! All the time. Even when he's angry. And I hate that funny feeling I get in my stomach whenever he smiles at me, because those butterflies that all those teen novels -- that I never read, of course -- gush on and on about say that they feel splendid and wonderful, which means that I can't like him because they don't feel wonderful at all. They feel horrible, like there are a thousand fluttering butterflies erupting in my stomach.

"What are you thinking about?" An eyebrow raised in my direction and my thought process was cut short.

"Does that count as one of your questions?"

"Nope. Feel free to lie if you want."

I looked back up towards the ceiling, frowning slightly.

"High school isn't all it's cracked up to be." He snorted almost immediately, the pace of his drawing increasing in his humor, "What? Something wrong with what I said?"

"High school is hell, Perkins, why do you think almost every movie made is centered around a teenager?"

"Stupid damn teenagers and their irrational thinking. High school should be compared to a monkey cage, where everyone gets covered in a bunch of shit."

"Surprisingly, you're not the first to make that connection."

He flipped the page on his sketchbook and started again on a fresh page, making me wonder what he was drawing in the first place. I crawled onto all fours, looking at the paper curiously. Subconsciously, he covered the one or two lines with his arm and stared at me.

"What?" He snapped, mentally willing me to look away.

"What are you drawing?

"Nothing."

"Who knew that the great Warren Peace was shy." I teased, flopping onto my stomach, "How cute."

"I'm not shy." He defended, "Or cute."

"Right. You're rude and rugged." I nodded condescendingly, smirking.

He closed the sketchbook with a glare and tossed it away, raising an eyebrow at my look at shock.

"You could've crumpled it!"

You know, it's weird how he can communicate with his facial expressions. Like right now, for example, he's saying, "I'm too manly to care about crumpled paper. Look at my muscles."

And yet, I resisted the urge to look at his muscles. Instead, I started a staring contest.

And blinked.

"God, are you a robot or something?"

Warren's eyes shifted and his tan complexion paled. Suddenly, wires shot from his arms and pinned me to the floor.

"Exterminate... Exterminate...!" He slowly morphed into an R2D2 type robot, hovering above the ground.

"Doc... ter..." I gasped out in a fairly convincing english accent before slowly choking to death.

"Hey, spaz. What are you on?"

I twitched and my perspective of reality shifted back to normal and his eyes were a comforting chocolate brown instead of mechanical white.

"For a second there, Doctor Who. You're not a Dalek, are you? Because while it would be cool, it would also be very very painful."

"So you spend a minute twitching and staring off into space and it turns out you were guest starring on BBC." He rolled his eyes, "Congratulations."

"Well," I brushed my shoulders off, playing off my mild hallucination. Maybe he had some 'incense' burning somewhere, "You know how I do."

He rolled his eyes and stared at me.

"Okay, okay, no more cheap poser slang from the gangster wannabe." I made a zipping lip motion with my fingers and smiled.

"I'm still not sure if I can be seen with you publicly, but I'll accept that for now."

* * *

"So you haven't spoken to your parents at all?"

"It's only been a week." I shrugged, holding back a yawn. What time was it?

"Are they going to get custody?" He frowned, leaning into me slightly.

Somehow, in all the hours we spent talking, we both ended up on the headboard, side by side.

"How should I know? I'm not a friggin' precog or anything like that."

"But you want them to." I scowled at him, picking at the ends of my frayed skirt.

"Don't assume that because I enjoy spilling my guts to you that you have any idea of how I feel about anything."

"Yeah, it's hard to tell how a person feels when they have no fucking clue, either."

"Poopy head." Oh god, did I just use that as an insult? Think before speaking, Perkins!

"Did you just use the word _poopy _as an insult?" He asked in disbelief, not knowing whether to have pity or laugh.

"Yeah, so? Would you rather me call you a-"

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep

"-?!" Okay, stopping the potty mouth and getting control over my temper. Breathe, you stupid dweeb, _breathe._

He blinked.

"Heh. Sorry about that."

"Don't mention it."

"Hey, do you want to listen to music?" I asked, already getting out of bed.

I noticed on his bookshelf a few open shoeboxes filled with CDs, but thought that it would be rude to look through his things. Now, however, I was feeling a littly shaky and needed a distraction towards whatever I was feeling. That, and music might drown out the little Warren in my head saying that I had no idea what my feelings _were_ again and again. I grabbed one of them before settling myself on the ground, snorting when I realized they were sorted alphabetically.

"Who the hell is the Tribe?" I frowned at one of his CDs, taking it out before setting it gently on the ground. "A homemade mix for tribal chanting?"

"It's a rock band." He ground out, clenching his fists.

"Sorry, didn't mean to insult. Oh, you have a whole collection of mix tapes. And they're labelled by date and song name. You're a bit OCD sometimes, aren't you?"

"And you're a bit annoying."

"Only a bit?"

"I'm being nice, Perkins. Don't push it."

"I'm amazed by your generosity." I said dryly, rolling my eyes, "You have Taking Back Sunday? I never pictured you listening to feminine emo bands."

"It was free." He grumbled, looking away.

"I wouldn't mind having it. Adam Lazarra's voice is hot, along with the rest of him." I smiled dreamily. Famous guys, they're always so pretty.

"You're pathetic." I gasped dramatically before glaring at the amused teenage boy.

"Hey, I can't help it that attractive men seem to flock to bands like chickens to a rooster. And that females tend to notice, and stare, and get all squeaky and high pitched whenever we see them."

"Because _that's _what this world needs. More screaming fangirls."

"Please, as if you have any strangers memorizing tedious details about your life and fantasizing over you."

"Yeah, I just have all those giggling girls at Sky High sighing over me whenever I walk past." He noticed them? I thought he was blissfully ignorant, "I'm not stupid, Perkins. I have eyes."

"Good for you, then. The experience will prepare you for your future on the red carpet." I rolled my eyes and picked a few CDs to listen to. If Warren was so obsessed about the Tribe, I might as well listen to them.

* * *

Oh god, sun. Stupid bright fricking light. Why can't the world just be covered in darkness? It'd solve global warning, to say the least.

I rolled over away from my curtains and blearily opened my eyes to see what time it was. Only instead of seeing my Mickey Mouse alarm clock cheerily motioning with his hands to what ungodly time I had woken up, I saw red.

Not that I was angry, or anything, I literally saw red. And black. And a few hints of white.

And then I went though the automatic checklist all girls (and possibly boys) did when they woke up with no memory of what happened.

I was on a bed. A squishy, comfortable red and black bed that was oddly familiar. Yes, I was under the covers. No, I did not have a headache or any symptoms that could point to having a hangover. Yes, my clothes are still on, thank god. And oh shit, I was in Warren Peace's room. I fell asleep. In Warren Peace's stupid fricking room.

I am the most horrible daughter (foster or not) in existence. I've taken advantage of my loving step father who has raised me since toddler years and bought me that My Little Pony bake set in elementary school. I've betrayed his trust completely. He probably thought that I was at Magenta's house or something (as in some girl he's never met whom he felt safe with me being around) and granted permission for me to sleep over. Not that I had asked, of course.

In fact, he was practically begging for me not to come home now that he knew I was safe. He was looking a bit flirty with that paramedic next door, lately... He must've been a decade or so older than her, though. He was in his late fifties and damn if she wasn't in her forties.

If I were my own daughter, I would have a heart attack knowing that I was tricked into letting my daughter sleep over at an _older boy's _house. Oh god, I'm a slut! A slut who's taken advantage of my kindly old foster father to sleep with a boy like a common prostitute! Not that we did anything, of course. But it's the idea of what I did! Not to mention the fact that I think I have a crush on him.

... Did I seriously think that right now?

"You finally awake, Perkins?" Warren groaned and rolled over from his spot on the ground. He was still in the clothes from last night (but then again, so was I,) with a sheet carelessly draped across him.

"Meh?" I managed, feeling utterly confused. Why the hell did I fall asleep here?

"You fell asleep, obviously. Is there something about my room that just makes you so damn comfortable that you feel the need to pass out each time you come here?"

"Too early for sarcasm."

He chose to respond with silence, cracking his back and throwing away the sheet. He glanced at his clock, frowning at the time before stumbling up and vowing that this was the first and last time he was going to sleep on the cheap hard floor with nothing but his clothes to protect him from the aches and pains he woke up with. Which meant no more stupid little girly sleepovers, no matter how cute Perkins looked when she passed out from exhaustion.

"The hero and the hippie are coming over today." Warren said nonchalantly, opening his closet and rummaging around in his drawers.

"Really?" I yawned, stretching as I tumbled out of bed, "What time?"

"Half an hour. I'm taking a shower before he comes." I nodded sleepily and looked around for his clock.

"All-American Boy and the Tree Hugger are making their appearance at noon? Damn heroes are all morning people." I rubbed my eyes as he let out a huff of laughter.

"You're welcome to the shower after. There are probably some forgotten shirts lying around that I outgrew." I nodded again and he opened a door that I hadn't noticed until now, revealing a small modest-looking bathroom. How come I didn't have a bathroom in my room?

I rolled my eyes at my envious thinking and rolled out of his bed, landing unceremoniously on the floor. I let out a string of curses as my knee connected with cheap carpeting, since I had taken great care to cover my own room with plush squishy dark blueness and a few extra pillows around my bed. I had a knack for falling out of my bed. Alot. It's like my legs couldn't work in the morning but my body was unaware until I was already on the ground.

What was it with boys and lending me clothing? Warren probably saw it as nothing, seeing as I have no other clothing and I've been pelted with water and wandering the city for hours and these clothes really have seen better days, but it's been two days (less than that, really,) and two boys have offered me the clothes off of their backs. Well, not literally. Only halfway, since Warren probably wasn't wearing anything right now.

My face quickly turned a crimson red at the thought and I brushed all thoughts of a bare Warren Peace from my mind. He was in the next bloody room, fool! Cease your estrogen-charged hormonal driven fantasies and distract yourself! Distract!

Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer, you take one down, pass it around -- How pathetic am I? Humming to myself because I don't want to think of Warren -- One thousand one hundred ninety nine beers on the wall...

Author's Note: So, Emily's finally out of that whole denial stage. If only I could say the same for Warren. Sorry it's been over a month since I've posted this story. I had mild writers block. Okay, extreme writer's block. The bridge from point A to point B is completely foreign to me, because there is a plot! I just haven't figured out how to get there yet.


	6. Dress Shopping and the Burning of Shirts

When I heard that Layla and Superboy were coming over, I imagined something more Warren-esque. Like rooms lit by fire and rock music, with Layla bobbing her head encouragingly and Stronghold looking around awkwardly. I never really could imagine Warren and Stronghold as best friends, but I guess opposites really do attract... I guess.

Instead, Layla flocked to my side (since I was the only girl and Warren and Will needed 'guy time') and we ran around street vendors to look for a nice dress for her to wear to the Valentine's dance next Friday, which happened to be a week after Valentine's Day. Sky High wasn't really on top of things, if you'll pardon the pun. Get it? It's up in the air, but it's not on top of things? Ha... Okay, I'll shut up.

"What about this?" She asked, holding up a green summer dress with flowers printed all over it.

"Hippy girl, does everything you own have flowers on it?" I asked, picking up a blue dress that looked like it could fit me.

"No.. Okay, yes. But I can't help it, I'm connected to the plants."

"You are connected to the plants. But that doesn't mean that you have to wear them all the time." I teased, "Try this on. There're no flowers and it'll really make your eyes pop."

"Where're the guys? I want their opinion." She asked, raising her head to search the crowd.

"Please, they don't know anything. And they're still over by the food, hiding from the clothes. Which is too bad, because I'm buying Warren a wardrobe for the dance. I'll be damned if he's gonna reuse that suit from homecoming."

"Are you sure you have enough money for all of this?" Layla motioned towards the pile of clothes in my hands.

"Of course I do. Wanda decided that since I'm her only daughter she'll dig into the funds her father started up for her back when she was still a terrorist and splurge on me." I had so much cash. There was about three hundred dollars in my wallet and fifty in both of my pockets.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Will looked innocently up at his friend and picking off some fruit from that weird all natural crepe pastry Layla suggested he eat. He wasn't whipped, really, he just did whatever his girlfriend told him too. Because she had good ideas.

"Yes," Warren growled in return, blowing some hair out of his face and thanking the higher powers that Layla or that spaz that insisted on being in his company half the time weren't trying to recruit either of the manly men in their shopping escapades, "So shut up."

"Not even a little bit?"

"If you keep bringing this up, I will roast you alive." He threatened, his calm tone eerily giving Will a flashback to their first detention together. 'If you ever cross me again, I will roast you alive.' But Will wasn't known for his ability to pay heed to threats.

"You seem like you're in denial. Just ask her to the dance and I'm sure she'll say yes."

"If you do not shut your mouth, Stronghold, I will weld it shut. Slowly. Got it?"

"Yup, I got it. Unlike you, who can't make your mind up about anything." Will teased before running away as fast as he could. Unfortunately, his hot tempered friend had fast reflexes and grabbed his brightly colored shirt before he could get too far.

"Warren, your hand is a little hot."

"I do not like her. I will not ask her to the dance. Do... You... Understand?"

"Okay, okay! Your hand is smoking! I just got this shirt!" Will wrenched himself away with his superstrength, a hand sized hole steaming on his shirt.

"Please, superman, your mom got that for you in bulk." Warren smirked. Destroying Will's property and then teasing him about it did wonders for his temper.

"Still, this is the third shirt you've ruined. Pretty soon she's going to think you're an abusive friend."

"You were the ass who tried to run away."

"Willie-kins running away from a fight? I thought he was a superhero! Where's all that bravery, Stronghold?" I ran up from behind them with Layla right behind me, hearing the last snippet of the conversation. I always find that butting in and surprising everyone is a great conversation starter, "Oh, Warren, I got some clothes and man bracelets for the dance on Friday."

"Man bracelets?" He snorted, brushing away the arm I leaned against him with.

"Yeah, a man bracelet. You'll still be formal, but you'll look vintage. They're all worn leather, and very manly."

"Oh, that makes it so much more hetero." Warren rolled his eyes.

"You're wearing a bracelet right now!" I protested.

"It's not a bracelet," He defended, "It's a cuff."

"It's on your wrist. If it's not stretchy with a nike symbol on it, I'm calling it a bracelet."

"It has spikes."

"A spiky bracelet. Now stop making a fuss and wear one of the damn man bracelets!"

Meanwhile, Layla had given Will a blue shirt she saw on sale, with the excuse, "You were alone with Warren, so I thought I'd be prepared."

I had already donned the fourty dollars worth of cheap jewelry that I bought for myself and forced a large brown bag into Warren's arms filled with all the things I bought for him before skipping off to find a place to try on the dress I found. I had a thing for plaid dresses. And floppy hats, but that was already on my head and shielding me from the sun. It was too bad the bus didn't take fifty dollar bills.

* * *

_I was walking down the brightly lit halls of Sky High, blurry messes of color and hair brushing past me as I wandered. Everything was glowing, too. Everything except the two boys, Warren and Quinn, heading my way._

_I gulped, staring at the two. Both of them were almost as attractive as Brad Pitt in his Joe Black movie, walking towards me like God. Quinn, for one, had his usual skater hair that looked slightly more disshelved than usual, and he was wearing a black business shirt and torn jeans. He looked adorable and punk rock at the same time, with that endearing little smirk he was constantly wearing. And then Warren was smiling at me, for once in his life, and looked so edible. He had a white shirt and black dress pants, only the shirt was unbuttoned halfway to show off his skintight wifebeater, as if he knew that I mentally swooned every time I saw him shirtless or in tight clothing._

_Somehow I had stopped walking and the two were standing right in front of me, every part of their being absolutely perfect._

_"I love you." They said in unison, and I felt like I was going to throw up. The 'L' word, said by two of the hottest friends I have at Sky High? To me?_

_"Which one of us do you want?" Quinn asked, looking heartbreakingly confused._

_"I don't know!" I did not fail to see the irony of Quinn having white hair and a black shirt and Warren having black hair and a white shirt. The two of them standing together looked like a checker board. With red streaks. "One of you, stop being so attractive!"_

_"If I have to compete for your affections, then it's not worth it." Warren said dramatically, the ice girl from Valentine's girl appearing from nowhere and looking like a superstar. The two of them locked eyes and started making out wildly._

_"I won't be picked because I'm the only thing there!" Quinn declared, a made over Betty appearing from out of nowhere and looking like a model._

_And then they started making out wildly._

_"What? I thought you two loved me!"_

_Then Lash, carrying Speed's sister, stretched past me with a grin, "I thought I liked you, but it turns out I was only in denial about my feelings for Crystal. Sorry."_

_"No!" I screamed as dark surrounded me. At first I thought I was drowning in the dark abyss, but then I saw my Bloo alarm clock smiling at me, "Oh thank God." I sighed, greatful of my survival, "That was the freakiest dream since the whole chocolate bath and marshmallow soap incident."_

Author's Note: So, this chapter was short and pointless. But there will be a plot, and a subplot, and Emily will date someone. I can't say who, yet, because I'm very indecisive, but she will get with someone by the end of the story.


	7. What the?

"What's wrong with the last two blue dresses I tried on?" I whined, sighing as I put the two godly plaid dresses back on the rack, looking so dull and smothered compared to the frills and lace surrounding them.

"Because you need to wear a color other than blue for once in your life." Janice rolled her eyes, her chunky bracelets clicking against each other as she looked through the dresses of StylFreak, one of the craziest chic clothing stores in Metropolis that almost bordered on costume. She was dressed as a scene kid today, and had the feel-good adolescent behavior and abnormally straight hair to back it up. She swept her white and pink hair to the side to clear an ounce of her peripheral vision before she continue to search.

"But _why, _Janice? Blue works for me."

"No one can love blue that much. And besides, your eyes are so pretty. You shouldn't cover them up so much."

"Like you can talk." I scoffed, referring to her nonexistent brow line.

"Fine." Janice huffed, her hair suddenly growing and turning a shocking white that only allowed a few strands to cover her face, "Happy?"

"Shoot, you're a shapeshifter?"

Janice gave me a disbelieving look, "I've known you _how _long, Em? And I've participated in _how _many Save the Citizens? Do you even know who my mother is, Emily?"

"Um... no?"

"You're hopeless."

"And proud."

"Whatever. Anyway, you can't wear a plaid dress to a masquerade dance."

"It's a masquerade thing?" I said in surprise.

"Completely hopeless." Janice rolled her eyes.

"That... I'm not so proud about."

"Of course." A familiarly annoying voice mumbled from behind the coat rack.

I parted the clothes quickly to glare at a face I was beginning to hate. The mindreader, whatsername.

"The name is Rachel. Rachel Summers." She sniffed haughtily, brushing blindingly red hair out of her eyes, as if I were supposed to know who she was.

"Mhmm. And my name is Emily. Emily Perkins."

"And I'm Janice." She put on sunglasses, the pricetag still dangling awkwardly off of it before taking them off dramatically, "Janice Carlysle."

"You win, your initials are the closest." I raised my hands in surrender.

"Listen, Tweedle Dum," Rachel, though I still wanted to call her whatsername just to annoy her, glared at me, "You need to stop projecting so loud. I can't filter your annoyingly loud voice out, no matter how much I meditate. What's your power? Extremely loud thoughts about boys?"

"I do not think about boys!" I protested loudly. Not much, of course.

"Do you even hear yourself? You're so sure of yourself out loud, but every dress you picked up today came with the thought, 'Will Warren like this? Will _Quinn _like this? No, I don't like Quinn like that. I like him in a different way than a friend, but I don't necessarily like him like _that_. It's complicated, my life is the worst. I have three sets of parents and I don't know which one I can call daddy!' Shut _up, _already. I already exploded at you once."

At least there's no Quinn to awkwardly question me. That was embarrassing. I ate a few of his chocolates, though, and they were_ amazing. _It turns out they were _Dove _chocolates, the absolute God of body products and now fat-inducing sweets. All you need in life are Apple products and Dove chocolates. Heavenly.

"Oh god, it's not even _worth _talking to you if you're just going to think even louder about chocolate and iPods!"

Janice snorted before frowning and staring at me, wondering what the hell could lead my thoughts to those categories when whatsername was yelling at me about anything but those two. And people thought that _she _was the crazy schizophrenic one.

"Listen, tootsie," I put one hand on each of my hips and locked into one of my patented 'Don't mess with me' glares that has yet to work itself into my numbering system, "I can't control my thoughts. They're like clouds continuously circling themselves around my head and raining down words."

"Ooh, poetic." Janice clapped her hands eagerly, "Again, again!"

"Sorry, that was a once in a blue moon thing. I don't get wordsy that often," I shrugged in apology before turning back to Rachel, "I can't control my thoughts. I don't know how to stop projecting or whatever. So will you just get over it and leave me alone?"

Rachel huffed and stalked out of StyleFreak, deciding that distance would be better than to attempt to argue with me.

Emily; one. Whatsername; ... Damn. She got one on me on Valentine's Day.

* * *

I woke up to a dreadful morning, cursing the birds screeching outside my window. The radio alarm clock was too loud and I smacked Bloo on the face for his obnoxious volume.

"Em, you're going to miss the bus!" Mark yelled from downstairs.

"The bus should die." I replied in what I thought was a yell, but really was just a sleepy murmur that caused my voice to crack painfully.

Reluctantly, I kicked off my sheets and crawled over to my closet, yanking on the dress I got with Layla until it fell off the hanger and into my waiting hands. I willed my limbs to move with more grace, but I had just woken up, which meant that I had all the grace of a week old zombie with it's brain fried. Or did the nervous system move your limbs? No, not the nervous system. The nugget system? Nougat system... Nestle system... Chocolate.. Symptoms...

"Eat your breakfast in the next five minutes and you'll make it." Mark said as soon as I came down, motioning towards the plate of scrambled eggs across from him..

"Screw the world." I muttered, collapsing onto the chair and brushing down the static filled hair I straightened yesterday night. Always keep a brush handy. That was what junior high taught me.

"Good morning to you too." Mark chuckled cheerfully, drinking his coffee.

I floated over to the cafteria and kissed Warren on the cheek before sitting in his lap and taking out the food I made for him today.

"Um, guys?" Ethan asked, looking very confused for no reason at all.

"Yes, Ethan?" I asked with a smile, causing Zach to choke on his juice box.

"Is there something wrong with the two of you?" Magenta raised an eyebrow at the two of us, "Warren, you're smiling. You never do that for more than five seconds. And Emily, you called Ethan by his given name. And you're groping each other." I giggled and slapped Warren's wandering hand away before feeding him some sushi.

"Well, Magenta, I do believe the psychological reasons for my belittling others with snide names has more to do with my inferiority complex than anything else."

"That's gotta be the smartest thing I've ever heard out of her." Zach commented in awe. "The astronaut zombies must have taken over her brain."

"There are no such things as astronaut zombies, Zach." Magenta chastised before Will and Layla sat down with their cafeteria tray.

"Um, guys?" Will asked, sounding a lot like Ethan, "Is there something wrong with this picture?"

"I don't know what everyone's so creeped out about." I frowned, feeling a bit hurt by their rash words.

"The fact that you're on top of Warren doesn't phase you at all?" Layla asked, waving her fork around in her hand.

"Why should it?" Warren asked, tightening his hold around my waist.

"During gym you two didn't so much as look at each other. I mean, Warren, you burned a hole through my shirt because I wouldn't stop talking about Emily--"

"Aw, you did that for me?" I sighed in affection before proceeding to make out with him and disregard all previous conversation.

"Show of hands, who thinks this is unnatural?" Zack asked.

The agreement was unanimous.

Author's Note: Don't worry, I didn't leave out any story changing get togethers. Everything'll be explained in the next few chapters.


	8. Fire Bear

AN: Before, you may have read about a girl named "Betty". Then, later on, you may have read about a girl called "Molly". And then you heard of Betty again. That was me being stupid, and they're the same person who's real name is a mystery to me. She'll be Betty right now. Thanks to Kaypgirl for pointing out that big mistake.

"They've gone insane." Ethan stated as soon as the "couple" walked away with half the cafeteria staring at them in shock.

"What the hell happened?" Quinn asked, sitting down at their table and glaring at them.

"Beats me. I knew they liked each other, but they don't have any classes together after gym and Warren was with us at break." Will frowned, stabbing at his peas.

"And Emily was with me at break, telling me that she couldn't go..." He trailed off as his cheeks turned red.

"Out with you? Yeah. We know." Magenta smirked as he glared at her.

Betty and Janice joined the table with the lunch trays, effectively taking up all the seats and preventing anyone else from sitting down with them.

"Those two finally got together? It's about time." Janice grinned.

"Hey, I still had a chance!" Quinn protested.

"Right." Layla and Magenta nodded sympathetically.

"I still say the astronaut zombies took over their thoughts." Zach huffed.

"Or Rachel." Janice said thoughtfully, sipping her latte, "She's been saying at our lunch table that Emily's head finally shut up. And she looked kind of evil."

"That's against the rules, though. Abusing her powers like that could get her expelled." Ethan cut in.

"Yeah, and her dad's an X-Man too. Aren't they all about morality and righteousness and all that?" Zach agreed.

"Rachel's different than most X-Men." Betty said quietly, and all heads turned towards her, "She doesn't care much for anyone else. I wouldn't put it past her."

"So it's agreed. Warren and Emily had something done to their heads to make them crazy for each other. So what are we going to do about it?" Magenta looked around the table expectantly.

* * *

"Hey! Let go of me!" I screamed.

I had a backpack over my head, and I was on Zach's shoulders kicking and screaming. And I'm pretty sure that it was Magenta's shoelaces tying my limbs together.

Weren't there any teachers in this school?

"Sorry, Emily," Janice's voice said from my left. She didn't _sound_ so apologetic.

"Where are you taking me!?"

"Warren! I'm trying to _save_ you! Stop burning me!" Will yelled.

"Then stop carrying me!" I heard him roar, "And let Emily go, too!"

Aw, how sweet. My hero.

"We're just taking you to the Nurse's office." Ethan reasoned.

"That'd be great and all, if we were _sick_." I could hear Warren roll his eyes.

"You are too," Quinn protested, "Mentally sick, that is."

Warren roared and I could hear fire igniting.

"Warren! You burnt my shirt off! My _whole_ shirt off!"

"You're lucky your hair is indestructible." He growled.

"A kidnapping?" Asked the cheery voice of the school nurse, "What seems to be the problem?"

"We think they're hypnotized." Will breathed out as I was sat down on a bed and the backpack was taken over my face. I immediately snarled at the group, grinning in amusement when Zach jumped back a few feet.

"Someone hypnotized them to think as animals?"

I glared at the nurse. I think that was the most insulted I ever felt in my life.

"I wasn't hypnotized into anything!"

"They think that they're dating each other."

"But we _are_." Warren protested.

"For how long?" Quinn asked.

I frowned, wondering why I couldn't remember. Weren't girls supposed to remember that stuff?

"Ah, I see." She tutted and took a small cylinder-shaped device out of her pocket with a red light at the top. She then handed everyone sunglasses before putting on some herself. Warren and I didn't get sunglasses, though, and I had a strange sense of deja vu. Ah, yes. Men in Black. Funniest movie in the world.

"In a few moments, transverse magneto energy will surge through your brain, unlocking information hidden deep and dormant that could hold the key to Earth's very survival."

Everyone stared at the crazy nurse.

"Or your fake memories will go away and the real ones will surface. I've just always wanted to say that." She chuckled, "Never got to use this before. It's exciting."

I crossed my arms and stared determinedly at the red light. Warren _was _my boyfriend, no matter what anyone else said.

Then the red light flashed.

* * *

"Warren's not my boyfriend."

"Emily!" Quinn and Janice cried out, hugging me from each side.

"You're back!" Janice exclaimed.

"You're not going to kiss him anymore!" Quinn said happily, hugging me extra hard.

I was hypnotized, for twenty two minutes, into thinking that it was okay for me to make out with Warren Peace.

I made out with Warren Peace.

Warren Peace is a good kisser.

Oh god, I think Warren Peace is a good kisser. And I made out with him. And-

"Kill me now." Warren groaned.

Hey! I'm not _that _bad of a kisser!

"How many people saw me swap spit with the hotshot?" I looked expectantly at the group of students gathered in front of me to bear witness to my complete and utter embarrassment.

This completely topped the time when I was at a pool party and someone thought that it would be fun to flip over my donut. While I was inside it. And the little frilly spandex skirt that all the little girls looked for when they bought their swimsuits were pulled down by gravity to show off my butt for everyone. And I had a wedgie.

Great, now my face is burning twice as much.

"Oh god, I called you fire bear." I buried my head in my hands in shame.

"Don't get me _started_ on the pet names." Warren's eye twitched and he felt the sudden urge to throw up.

Oh god, he called me _blue boo. _How did he even think that up?

"Who put such horrible endearments into our head?" I cried, "Who did this to us?"

"Evidence that your fellow freshmen presented to us points to the possibility—"

"Spit it out, Popsicle." Warren glared.

"Rachel Summers." He squeaked. He was always afraid of Warren when he growled like that, no matter what Layla said. Or when his arms lit up in an inferno of fire. That was melt-worthy and fearful.

Warren frowned, "Cyclops' kid? She can do it, yeah, but why would she?"

"Wait, Rachel Summers? Crazy whastername from the mall?" I asked and Janice nodded.

"You know her?" Warren raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, she's the girl I was talking about on valentine's day."

"Oh, fuck."

"Watch your language, Mr. Peace." The nurse waved a lollipop in his face, frowning, "These are serious accusations you're throwing around. Now you might be feeling a little groggy, so make sure you don't go anywhere near the edge of the school and get a good night's rest tonight." She handed both of us lollipops and ushered us out of the room.

"Let's just go to Principal Power's office and tell her what happened." Ethan reasoned as soon as we were all outside.

"No way, I'm going to whatsername and giving her a peace of my mind." I argued.

"It's because she wanted to shut you up in the first place that you're in here!" Janice threw her arms into the air and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, who knows what she might do to us." Zach shivered.

"Come on, guys, you're all not afraid of her, are you? I mean, I don't want to break school rules and just attack her, but it's not because I'm afraid of her. Right?" Will smiled at the group only to be met with a variety of apprehension, glares, and blank expressions.

"She's a telepath, genius. She's the daughter of the _Phoenix_ and one of the highest ranking X-Men—You can't just pummel her into submission! You'll end up a vegetable before you can even touch her." Quinn glared at him, his eyes sparking in anger through his white bangs.

"I'm sure she wouldn't--"

"Stronghold, she messed with my mind." Warren said quietly, "I'd like to get my revenge with the least danger exposed to my mental well-being."

"Okay, okay, I was just asking." Will held up his hands in surrender.

"Alright, then. Let's tattle on the all-powerful technopath and hope she doesn't turn us into drooling, mind dead shells of people." I clapped my hands together and smiled at them all.

* * *

"Logan, I don't care _what _his powers are. You can't just stab someone when they call you unreasonable!" Scott sighed in exasperation, running a hand across his jaw. He had forgotten to shave again today, and it showed.

"He can _regenerate_." Logan rolled his eyes, before grinning rakishly, "Not as good as me, of course. His limbs slice off as easily as those rag dolls in the gym. And he didn't just call me unreasonable. He said I was an alcoholic."

"Despite the fact that you previously denied that you mutilated all of our target dummies,"

"And still do deny those accusations," He smiled innocently in a 'na na, you can't prove anything' fashion.

"And you consume your body weight in beer every week.." Scott growled, a familiar headache forming in between his brows.

A few months after Logan set up permanent residence in the mansion, he started calling that particular pain the "Logan Headache". Then, when he met Remy, he saw fit to rename it the "Ass ache."

His cellphone rang then, only adding to the pain in his central lobe.

"I'll leave you to your... Whatever." He waved his hand at the cell phone before lighting a cigar and walking away.

"Scott Summers." Scott said tiredly. "Yes, this is the father of Rachel... What's wrong? Did something happen to... What!? What did she do? No, wait, don't tell me," He rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, "I want it to be a surprise for when I get there... Yes, thank you... Okay... Goodbye."

Scott considered renaming his headache again, because it would be awfully cruel to call his only daughter an 'ass ache'.

"You're not taking the bike, are you? I was going to make a cigar run." Logan popped his head in the door with a curious expression.

"They're sending over a flying bus." Scott answered wearily.

"Ah. Of course."

* * *

This will now be told in third person, focusing on Scott Summers.

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Summer. Right on time." Principal Powers ushered him into her white office, urging him into a comfortable black chair.

He sat in between his daughter and a woman who looked to be a couple years older than him. There were a few gray hairs sprinkling the top of her head, and he noticed a few worry wrinkles, but he was sure she was in her late forties at the most. Most mutants of his generation looked older than they were, and Scott sympathized with her completely. His own sunglasses hid a fair amount of stress lines.

Next to the woman was a teenage boy, looking extremely disgruntled while leaning as far down in his chair as he could without falling off. His arms were crossed, which caused his sleeves to rise up and reveal a wrist tattoo of a flame. Scott resisted the urge to look down upon the boy like he used to do with boys who dressed like him. Instead, he focused on the large resemblance between the woman and the boy, quickly deciding that she was his mother.

The last person sitting in one of the chairs was a petite girl, no older than his own daughter, with dark blue hair that hung in her face. She was pouting, leaning down like the boy next to her, but instead of staring fixedly at the desk in front of her like the boy, her eyes would settle on the principal's teaching credentials while occasionally scowling at his daughter, her large amounts of jewelry jingling with every move she made.

"I called you all here to discuss what happened at lunchtime. Your father couldn't make it, dear." The principal smiled sadly at the girl with the blue hair, "He said you would understand."

She nodded stiffly while the boy next to her raised an eyebrow. Then she stuck her tongue out at him and the boy's mother smiled knowingly.

"Now, at lunch, a group of students, including these two here," She nodded at the boy and girl, "Came into my room claiming that your daughter had hypnotized them into thinking that they were dating." Scott's eyebrows raised behind his glasses and he shot a quick, disbelieving look at his scowling daughter, "I at first thought that they were merely exaggerating, but Mr. Peace and Miss Perkins did indeed have your daughter's psychic residue in their minds."

The girl wrinkled her nose, either not liking the idea of "residue" in her mind, or not enjoying whatever process led them to find it. Either way, the familiar-looking facial expression and the last name reminded him of the newly released convict couple that came to the mansion with Rogue who enjoyed talking to him about their problems for no apparent reason.

"Wait, Miss _Perkins_? Emily Perkins?"

"Yeah? Do I know you?" The girl asked curiously, leaning forward to see him past the Peace family's heads.

"Has your daughter spoken of Miss Perkins before?" The principal asked.

"No, she hasn't mentioned her to me at all. I know her mother." He smiled calmly while mentally screaming, being sure not to project and annoy his daughter.

Wanda was going to kill him. Then she'd hex Rachel and turn her into a powerless vegetable. Then she'd hex him back to life, insult his parenting, and kill him again. Then she was going to disregard the fact that Rachel was a child and kill _her._

Oh, he was going to have to have a _big_ talk with his daughter.

Author's Note: Bet you weren't expecting things to clear up so quickly. Don't worry, there are alot more issues in the story. And, like every other Sky High fic I've read, I'm going to have to bring a villain into the plot. It's required.


	9. Free Yogu From Jacques

You know how it feels when you're in a new school, and when you walk into the cafeteria alone and uncomfortable, you feel like everyone is staring at you, waiting for you to make a fool of yourself?

Try _literally _having everyone look at you expectantly when you first walk through the doors of the cafeteria, and having your usual lunch table surrounded by all the semi-friends you've made in the school and having it the furthest possible distance from where you are right now.

Apparently, someone had told everyone about the mental... Voodoo... Thing... If me and the hothead crawling all over each other wasn't enough of a tell... Oh god, I must've looked like a ho bag, or one of those trashy teens on television that act horny as hell.

After my walk of shame, with almost everyone staring at me or whispering about me, I sat in between Janice and Quinn, who, along with Betsy and hothead's friends, decided to smother us with their company. 'Us' not being used in a couple form, but in the form of two people who were not involved romantically but rather two people who would remain friends. Despite how attractive he was, and how good at kissing he proved himself to be.

"Um, hi." I smiled quickly at the tables pushed together filled with everyone I had been friendly with this year. Or had been friendly towards me. There were my freshman acquaintances, Janice, Quinn, and Betsy, with a backpack claiming a butt-sized space between Janice and Quinn. Then, on the opposite end of the table was Warren, reading a book and with his friends effectively spread out on both benches. Because the loser had more friends than me.

And the whole school was still staring at us.

"This is incredibly awkward." I whispered to Janice, staring at the crowd... Staring at me, while they whispered to their friends. Did these people not have lives?

"I know, sad isn't it? This wasn't half as exciting as when Petrakis and Livingston had that whole showdown."

"_Lash _Livingston?" I asked, "When did _that_ happen?"

"Do you even listen to what I say?" Janice exclaimed, hitting me on the head.

"No, not really." Quinn grinned at her before resuming his conversation with Zach. They really did make a pair, with their incredibly light hair. Oh, that rhymed. I could be a poet. Or a lyricist. Except I can't carry a tune to save my life.

"Emily, you're zoning out _again!_" Janice rolled her eyes.

Warren snorted.

"Oh, the fight between Lash and... Whoever. When did that happen?"

"Petrakis. Danny Petrakis." At my blank look, Janice sighed, "Extremely hot geokinetic senior?" I raised an eyebrow, "With the hottest worn leather jacket in the school? No offense Peace."

"Is he that incredibly lean guy who wore that shirt with the huge gaping tear down the front?" I asked in curiosity.

"That showed off his gloriously tanned six-pack?" Magenta added.

"Hey!" Zach yelled, glaring at his girlfriend.

"What? Do you have a six pack?" Magenta raised her eyebrow. Ha. More like a flat pack.

"That guy has the _best _hair I've ever seen on a guy." Layla said, waving her spoon at Janice, "I mean, he doesn't use _any _gel at all and it waves like.."

"Godly chocolate curls." I said for her, and the girls at the table, even Betsy who had remained quiet so far, nodded.

"Are you all done?" Will asked.

"Um, yeah." Janice sipped her Chai, "The fight was a week ago. Because he was suspended. For fighting. Which is why he isn't in this school right now. I was talking to you about it during Mr. Erick's class. Remember?"

"But Valentine's was only a couple days ago." I frowned.

"Yeah... He wasn't there." Janice gave me a 'Duh, you stupid idiot' look and stabbed at her lasagna. Or pasta. I didn't know what the hell that was. Cafeteria food was nasty.

"He left blue roses in my locker, though. With a little black and white striped bow tying it together. It's his trademark gift."

"Speed probably did it. He's been running all these weird errands for Lash out of boredom, from being sure to trip Ethan every day before second period to... Whatever the hell else he's doing."

"Really?" Will cut in, "I thought I saw Lash with the roses."

"You probably saw Speed with the roses, and since you're usually used to seeing the two together... Constantly... Your mind was mistaken." Janice explained.

"... Okay." That was creepy, "What were Lash and.. That guy-"

"Petrakis."

"Fighting about?"

"Oh, Petrakis was trying to recruit him into his little group or whatever. You know, they always hang around at the back of the school...?" I shook my head, "Dukes, Toynbee, Sontag, and him? Their parents were friends, or something."

"Oh," Will cut in, "Toynbee's in my Core class. Green kid, right?"

"Greg, not green." Warren corrected, "He's in our math class, too."

"And I'm tutoring Jenny Dukes." Ethan added into the conversation.

"Tutoring an eleventh grader? Hi-five, man." Zach grinned, slapping Ethan's hand. Boys.

"Okay, back to the actual conversation," I interrupted as Will opened his mouth to say something else. I had really good timing, "Why did Lash get so mad?"

Layla leaned in to talk quietly to the rather large group.

"Around ten years ago, when the police and some vigilante supers trying to form a league took down the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants," I vaguely remembered Wanda and John speak about a Brotherhood and how they were a part of it, "There were rumors about some supers that got out of it scotch free by giving information on the others. The police weren't really concerned about them, they cared more about the mutants in Magneto's inner circle. They wouldn't release the identities of the supers who told, but Petrakis and his gang's parents were some of the supers rumored to be in the Brotherhood. I guess Lash didn't want to be caught up in all that just after he got out of Juvie."

I gulped. Wasn't Magneto my grandfather?

"My parents told me about that," Will added, "It was the largest arrest they ever made. They even got two moles in the Xavier Institute."

"One of them was Magneto's daughter. They said they were good, but they were tried anyway for terrorist acts." Magenta said, making me notice the similarities between Magenta and Magneto. If the 'e' and 'n' were switched and a line was added at the end of the 'o' to make it an 'a'.

"An X-Men even came to the trial. He confirmed that they set fire to one of the cure buildings, but that they turned over a new leaf." Ethan said, "I can't believe they were released, though. One of them even tried to kill the president."

Layla absently reached over to take a sip of her water before yelping as soon as her fingers touched the bottle.

"What?" Will asked, looking at her worriedly.

"The water's boiling!" She exclaimed, looking at the steaming water in confusion, "Who would do that?"

"Ugh," Quinn grimaced, looking into his own Milk Chug, "The plastic inside is all melted. I hate warm plasticy milk. Emily, you might want to trow out your Yogloo, it looks disgusting... Emily? Emily!"

My head snapped up from the table and I raised an eyebrow at Quinn.

"Yeah?" I asked, before looking in disgust at all the melted bottles of liquid. "What happened?"

"Hey, my ravioli is warm now." Janice grinned, taking advantage of the strange warmness that travelled through all the food-like substance.

"Everything stopped boiling..." Zach looked into his soda, noticing that it was no longer bubbling and spurting liquified sugar drops of hotness.

"Warren, did you do that?" Will asked warily, knowing he didn't like it when the politics of super villains were discussed.

"No, I can't do anything like that." Warren closed his book and shoved it into some huge convenient pocket on the inside of his jacket, all the while looking at me suspiciously.

"Ah, shoot. Now I have to buy a new Yogu." I groaned, standing up with a sigh.

"It's Yog_loo_." Janice corrected.

"Says you."

* * *

"Summer's kid did _what_!?"

"Wanda," Rogue sighed, brushing white locks from her face as she spoke into her phone, "Don't take ya anger out on ya house. Ah can hear ya throwing shit at the wall."

"The wall deserves it! How _dare _it mess with _my _daughter's mind! _Tell me_ that she's being punished for it."

"A week suspension, no valentine's dance, three hours of community service, and she's going to polish the jet and do a month of danger room sessions with Logan _and _Remy."

"With no powers."

"Of course, Scott's afraid you'll kill him."

"He better be. Now I have to try and stop John from burning all of Scott's things as soon as he finds out."

"He would do that?"

"You know how he is about mind control."

"Ah, yeah. He's not going to try and make the poor girl wear one of Magneto's spare helmets all the time, is he?" Rogue cringed, imaging how it would look on a teenage girl with bright blue hair. Or how it would look on _anyone_, without a red cape and leather gloves.

"You know how he gets when he's protective."

Rogue sighed, knowing _exactly_ how he got when he was protective. Irrational and embarrassing.

"Yeah..." Rogue trailed off, "You're still coming to Easter dinner at the Mansion, raight?"

"Why don't you ever host a holiday dinner at your house?"

"Like y'all can fit. And that's not an answer. And you know you love mah food."

"Scott's girl does not so much as _look _at my daughter, and if I see her trying to mess with her mind I hex her powers away."

"Temporarily, of course."

"... Of course." Wanda lied.

Rogue sighed.

"Do ya really want her first impression of everyone tah be clouded by her psycho overprotective mother shoving her glowin' red hands threateningly in another girl's face all night?"

"Shut up. Great, now I have to call Agatha to help Emily with her mental blocks. She's going to hate meditating as much as you did."

"Ah'm lahkin' the girl more and more every tahme you talk bout her. Oh crap. Nic, don't put that fork in there! My idiot son is picking up more habits from my idiot husband."

"Playing with those electric things in the walls?"

"No, not the _electric thangs_. Toasters." Squealing sounded out from the phone and Rogue was heard sighing.

"Nic wants toaster! Nic wants toaster!"

"Nic don't want the toaster. Nic wants tah live, don't he?"

"Zappy toaster! Toaster power! Toaster _power!_"

"I'll leave you to your nine year old demon." Rogue glared at the phone, wishing to wipe off the smirk she _knew _was on her friend's face.

"Ah hate ya."

"I know you don't."

"He thinks he's already got his powers and can control electricity. Through the toaster."

"How's the Cajun taking it?"

"He wants to test him to see if his X-Gene is active." Rogue rolled her eyes, her struggling son in one arm and her phone in the other.

"You're_ kidding_."

"Sometimes Ah don't know why Ah married that man."

"I've been wondering what you see in him ever since you agreed to go on a date in _Louisiana_."

"Now Ah gotta go hahde the toaster again."

"Why don't you just get rid of it?"

"And do what? Make toast on a _stove? _Bye, Wanda."

"Bye, hon."

* * *

I stood at the vending machine, contemplating whether I should have mango or lychee flavored Yogu, when an innocent-looking boy with long dark hair tied back in a ponytail walked up to me. He leaned on the vending machine with his elbow, assuming the cool-boy position all flirting guys must when near a flat wall-like surface.

"Emily, right? Emily Perkins?" He smirked, as I took in the fine details of his being. Like the little surfer bracelet he had over his long sleeved shirt. It was the only color he was wearing in the sea of black clothing he had on. I need to reassess my hemp collection. Every once in awhile I organize my accessory collection by material and type, but then I _wear _them and just throw them back in the general direction they're supposed to be, so it gets disorganized again.

"Um, yeah. And you are?"

"Jacques Sontag. I heard about what had happened between you and that Summers girl." He smiled sympathetically before gesturing at the vending machine, "Can I buy you something?"

"Oh, you don't have to." I said, backing away from the vending machine as if that would stop him, "I was just going to buy myself a drink."

"Don't worry, I have money to spare. Which drink?" He took a wallet out of his back pocket, opening up the black leather and fishing out a few dollar bills.

"Um, a Lychee flavored Yogu. I mean, Yogloo."

He smirked and pressed the little buttons that made the drink come out of the little slot.

"You're a freshman, right?" He asked, opening the bottle for me. I wasn't paying much attention to the drink, though. His eyes were like black pools of gorgeous upperclassman-ness.

"Yeah."

He smirked again, as if he was laughing at some joke only he knew, and handed me my drink.

"I'll see you around, Emily."

I nodded before floating back over to my table.

"What were you talking to Sontag for?" Warren growled, a sneer evident on his face.

"Jacques?" I asked, leaning on Janice as I sat down, "He bought my Yogu for me."

"Oh, yeah, before you came in a bunch of kids were trying to buy Warren shit." Quinn said, "But he scared them all away. I managed to snag a soda from them, though, and about five hero subs. I didn't finish my soda..." He sighed, reflecting upon the soda he lost to strange weather conditions.

I then noticed that there was a pile of hero subs in a pile next to Warren, looking incredibly overwhelming compared to the paneer makhani I made for him last night.

"I think it's nice of you to talk to him." Layla beamed, putting an encouraging hand on mine and leaning a few inches closer to me. A foot was the limit, no matter how well I got on with her now.

I quickly swiped my hand out from under hers, cradling it close to me as if it were wounded.

"What for?" I asked warily, taking a chug out of my yogurt flavored drink.

"Not many people talk to him or his friends. You know, the whole Brotherhood thing." She waved her hands in a self explanatory fashion.

I made a silent 'oh' with my mouth. "Jacques is one of the guys who's parents ratted out everyone else?"

"Not exactly _ratted out_," Will chuckled, "But yes, they say his mother was a part of the Brotherhood before she got on the right side of the law."

I rolled my eyes. She was a tattler.

The bell rang suddenly and I jumped, some of my drink escaping out of it's container and falling onto the table.

"That was not forty five minutes." I said determinedly.

Janice rolled her eyes as she picked up her bag, smacking me on the back of the head for good measure, "Mr. Medulla doesn't allow drinks in class. I'll be in the lab while you try and finish up your drink."

I gave her the English finger while chugging my drink.

"I'll walk you."

I choked on my drink as Warren spoke in his gruff tone.

"Napkin?"

I took the napkin from his smirking hands, not because his hands could smirk, but because the napkin was in his hand and his face was smirking.

"Meanie." I pouted, throwing the now empty bottle into the recycling.

"I need to talk to you about something." He said, his smirk disappearing.

I cocked my head to the side, gathering up my things and following him out of the cafeteria.

"Warren Peace had decided to instigate his very own conversation?" I said in mock enthusiasm, clapping my hands together, "What's on your mind, Skipper?"

"Just... Don't talk." He sighed, putting a hand to his forehead, "When they were talking about your parents, were you the one that ruined all the drinks?"

"I thought you told me not to talk?" I asked, pouting.

He glared at me.

"What? Besides, since when do I have the power to melt food?"

"You control fire," He shrugged, "You might be able to control the temperature of things, too. It was a little bizarre that it started up when they were talking about how bad your parents were and stopped when the shapeshifter snapped you out of whatever staring contest you were having with the table."

"Regardless of meaningless coincidences." I huffed before a chipper girl in neon layers walked up to us.

"Wow, guys, I'm like, really sorry about what happened with Summers." She said sympathetically.

"Um, thank you..." I replied warily, staring at her strangely. She was like the valley girl impersonation of Layla. Warren stayed silent, choosing to just glare at the unwelcome girl.

"Misty." She said with a smile, pointedly ignoring Warren's glare.

"Misty." I repeated with a firm nod, as if I would commit the name to my memory and not forget it in the next five seconds.

"If you two _ever_ need anything, you can_ totally_ come talk to me."

"Sure..."

"Great. See you around, Emily! Warren!"

"Yeah, okay!" I smiled and waved, waiting until she was out of sight before I shivered and continued walking towards Mad Science.

"Can you believe them?" Warren growled, glaring at a smiling stranger. Now that I was looking, _all _the strangers were staring at us. They probably all knew our names, too.

"Yeah, who knew being a victim of mind control is like.. The key to popularity nowadays." I giggled nervously, looking at the lockers, just noticing that it wasn't Janice or Quinn talking to me, or even extremely quiet Betsy. It was Warren Peace.

"God, it makes me sick." He groaned, ignoring my growing awkwardness with ease. I bet he didn't mind all the free hero subs. I certainly didn't mind the free Yogu.

"It's kind of creepy, though. How'd all these people find out my name? Or what I look like?"

"You're joking, right?" He snorted, "You went to homecoming with a guy who tried to turn everyone into babies last year, and your hair is the most obnoxious color I've seen in this school." Says the guy with blinding red streaks in his black hair... Yeah, never mind, that was weak, "Like that blue furry Hank guy on the news last week."

"I don't see how any of this is relevant." I sniffed, looking away from him pointedly.

"Mhmm."

The supposedly comfortable silence lay heavy in the air, the lack of conversation itching at my neck persistently until I finally had to talk. Even if it was just meaningless questions. It was a curse, my need to speak. Hey, I'm rhyming again.

"What class do you have?" I asked.

"Lowbacca."

"Ah, Mr. Spider Head. I have Mr. Big Head."

"Really? Because we just passed the Mad Science lab." He smirked.

"Oh, shizz." How did that happen?

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you warn me?"

He rolled his eyes and grinned. I think that this is only the second time I've seen his teeth bared without it being a hostile situation.

"I'll see you tomorrow," He said, leaning down inches away from my face, "Blue boo."

I stood there for a few seconds, red faced and clutching the strap to my bag like it was a lifeline as he walked away.

"Asshole."

* * *

"So..." Will said to Warren, as the rest of the class talked about "math problems" and passed notes.

"What, Stronghold?" Warren sighed, having a good idea about what the conversation was going to be about. Why couldn't Stronghold just act like a jerk to his girlfriend again so he'd seek advice and give Warren some peace about his own problems?

"Did you talk to her like I said you should?"

"No, Muscles. I shoved her into her locker and set her on fire."

Will blinked at him. "You're joking... Right?"

"Of course I'm joking." He rolled his eyes, doodling in his notebook.

"Warren, is that _blue _fire?"

"So?" He raised an eyebrow, ripping out his page of blue scribbles and throwing it at him.

"Why can't you just admit that you like her? Even Layla and I weren't _that _dense."

"No, _you _were just that dense. For eight years. I think I can wait a little longer."

"Ah, so you _are _waiting for her."

"Stronghold, if you keep this up I _will _incinerate you."

"I know that's just your way of saying you care."

Warren fumed, muttering to himself about stupid preppy boys and their dense tendencies.

"I'm not the dense one, Warren. Well, not right _now_. Just.. Ask her to the dance."

"Haven't we already talked about this?"

"Yeah. And you set off the sprinkler system before we could finish." Warren looked longingly up at the sprinkler system on the ceiling. "No. You are not evacuating the school just so you can avoid talking about your problems."

Just as Warren was about to say something that may or may not have been a breakthrough in his massive denial, a mousy looking girl turned around to face Warren.

"Um, hi. I'm Suzie."

He raised an eyebrow that said, 'That's nice, but I don't care.'

"Well, I don't know if you and Perkins like each other, or anything,"

"We don't." He growled.

"G-good, because my friend Nancy wants to know if you'll go to the dance with her on Friday. She's in your Elements class? The one with the brown curls?"

"No thanks." He leaned back and started scribbling in his notebook again.

"Um, okay. Do you wanna go with me?" She grinned hopefully.

"No."

"Oh. That's fine." She said, dejectedly turning back to her own desk.

"See, Warren? You're breaking everyone's heart by pretending you don't like Emily. I mean, she's kind of rude, and she still fakes a wince every time she looks at me or Zach,"

"Who says she's faking that?" He snorted.

"_Anyway_, you two are... Good together. Like me and Layla." Will said proudly.

"The world can hardly handle the two of you."

"Shut up. I meant as good together, but in a different way."

"So we're the antichrist couple?"

"Ah, so you _do _like her! You admitted that you consider the two of you as a couple!" The girls surrounding them immediately groaned, disturbing the two of them greatly.

"Stop putting words in my mouth."

"Warren, I've been trying to convince you for _days _to just ask her out already. She's not going to wait around forever, you know." At his growling, Will decided to use another approach. "Just ask her to the dance. Magenta said she doesn't have a date. Yet."

He growled again, and his back was starting to steam. Really, Will couldn't help it. This was the first time in the whole time he'd known him that Warren was being the stupid one.

"What will it take for you to lay off? Wait. Nevermind." Warren shook his head.

"What are you so afraid of? It's not like she'd say no."

"It's.. Complicated. _She's _complicated."

"What's so complicated? I know she's a little crazy, but it's not that complicated. It's not as if you were best friends for years."

"Stop talking about you and the hippie for a second, Stronghold. It's not that kind of complicated. It's a different kind of complicated. A parent kind of complicated."

"Really? I've never heard of her dad, though. Does he not like your dad?"

"No one likes my dad, Stronghold." He snorted, "But it's not that. I'll tell you it at the Paper Lantern tonight, okay?"

He glanced around suspiciously at the students around him pretending not to listen.

"Warren, stop being paranoid and just tell me already." Will laughed, hiding his impatience with humor.

"You're in a superhero school, Stronghold. Have they taught you _nothing_?" He whispered angrily.

"Always save the citizen?"

"Don't reveal hidden information in public places."

Really, even that goofy guy in the movies with the scar on his forehead learned how to be discreet. Eventually.

**Author's Note:** Ooh, wow, over four thousand words. Hopefully it wasn't all word vomit. Someone's probably wondering what kind of mutilated X-Men storyline I'm using, and the answer is that it's the X-Men movieverse, but I took the third movie, chopped it up, and put it into a blender with the Maximoff twins and some characters that might have died in the previous movies. Like Toad... Poor Toad.


	10. Miracle Whip

"Ya look positively _flustered_, Miss Perkins."

Janice twirled around in her chair, folding her arms and staring at me. Strangely enough, her wardrobe had changed from lunch and she was wearing a cow suit, complete with an udder. I blinked as I sat next her, cautiously putting my backpack onto the table.

"What's up with you?" She snorted, flipping through the lab instructions. I sighed, looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, then looked back at Janice who was again the Hairspray-esque dancer from lunch.

"Did you just do a superfast shapeshift?" I asked, startled.

Janice stared at me strangely, "Have you been taking any drugs?"

"No, no," I sighed, and buried my head in my arms, "I think."

"Ah.. Peace?"

"An ill-fitting name." I groaned.

"What'd he do?"

I motioned for her to come closer and whispered in her ear, "He called me Blue Boo."

My face turned red and I buried it in my arms again before anyone else could see.

"Blue Boo?" Janice snorted loudly, "Is that a play on words from Yogi Bear? Is he calling you short and furry?"

"No... I think. He called me that, a few days ago... When Whatserface was in our heads."

"Aw, a pet name?" Janice smiled, "How sweet."

"He was teasing me, though. Right? I acted like an _idiot _during those twenty two minutes, and now he's holding it over my head."

"Or maybe he called you that because he _likes _you, and that's his way of showing it." I scoffed. Pshaw. How could Janice even think something like that?

Mr. Medulla then walked into the lab and coughed, loudly.

"If everyone will kindly put a stop to their social lives, class may _begin_. I trust you're all finished with the labs we've been working on the past few days?" Some protests rang out through the class, "Excellent. The lab report is due tomorrow."

Die, Mr. Medulla. Die.

"What's up with _you_?" Janice snorted, flipping through the lab instructions as I sat down next to her.

"Shut up, Miracle Whip." I snapped, referring to her Hairspray-style white hair. Which looked like a squirt of Miracle Whip. Or Cool Whip. I should've called her Cool Whip. Damn.

"I am not mayo. Although I do have spice." She chuckled to herself in a dorky manner, the type that only those who laughed at their own jokes could achieve.

Cool Whip? Ha, more like Dorky Whip... Ha.. Get it? Dork...?

... Yeah, I get why I'm her friend now.

* * *

_Feb. 18, 2008_

_Dear Mr. Lonely,_

_I'm calling you lonely because I haven't written in since... Forever? I'd look back at the past entry about how awesomely awesome Mr. Worm from the Labyrinth was, namely because he was blue, but luckily for me I always forget to date them. Except now, because I was thinking about it. I think the last time I dated an entry was... 2001? Maybe?_

_So... This redheaded telepath girl, Meanie-poo Whatsername, messed with my mind and forced me to make an absolute fool of myself. I would've doused my mouth with soap if I wasn't worried about poisoning myself. I always thought that it was okay to consume small amounts of cleaner until I saw that scene in Supernatural where that nameless hunter was attacked by Gluttony and forced to drink all that liquid cleaner... It was ew._

_...Anyway...  
_

_Then, Hothead deemed it necessary to tease me about what had happened, despite him making as much a fool of himself as I did. He called me Blue Boo, a name which I distinctly remember him calling me when we were hypnotized to crawl all over each other like animals in heat. Or a horny male cat and a female cat in heat. Does Whatsername have some weird kink or something? Having people make out under her orders?_

_Oh, disturbing mental images._

_Quinn has become disturbingly clingy. I don't know if he's _become _clingy, since it's only one day after the "incident" (thank God the incident didn't last longer than a half an hour,) but he didn't poke, prod, or throw things at me during sixth period. Instead, he switched seats with the anonymous student who usually sat next to me, who I call Bushy Eyebrows, Eyebrow-Man, or Mr. Caterpillars. In my mind, of course. Then he spent his whole time glaring at anyone who even tried to look in my direction. And then he insisted on switching seats with Betsy for the bus-ride home. And, when my stop came up, he tried to walk me home. Luckily, I was able to shove him back into his seat, glare him into submission, and escape to the bus stop._

_Wanda called, the moment I got home from school. I think she's psychic. Or knows someone who's psychic. She said that she'd help me on that whole 'projecting my thoughts' shizz. Something about a woman named Agatha? I was hoping it would be Agatha Christie, even though she was kind of... Dead. I thought there'd be some murder mystery journey I'd have to go through to put my mind at rest. But not in the dead way._

_Instead, it was this old woman, wearing a Salem-era dress underneath a Salem-era robe, who taught me the basics of meditation. Meditation. It was like I was in yoga or something. I've always hated yoga. It was way too boring. Like meditating. I was bored after two minutes._

_I miss the good old days, in the normal-people schools, where Science was Science. Not 'How to Take Over the World Using a Remote Control and a Paper Clip' with Dr. Medulla. Now I'm a superhero in the making, with a whole new set of parents, and _friends. _Since when did I have friends?_

_Oh, Mr. Lonely. It's so hard to have people actually expect things of you. I was fine just coasting through life, exceeding no one's expectations. And now I'm attached to all these extra people—Expecting things from me. Like conversation. I'm not used to interacting with people for prolonged periods of time unless I'm talking to myself. Like when I talk to Warren, who is a bit more attractive than a brick wall.  
_

_Okay. Useless insecurities aside; Did you know the wonderfully anonymous humanoids on YouTube? They have posted so many movies and television series on there, like Disney's Peter Pan (both the original **and **the sequel) and I'm currently watching episode 18, season 2 of Ugly Betty. Sigh, if Betty doesn't pick Gio, I'll jump into the television and go to Rome with him myself._

_Who knew that Latina deli owners could be so adorable? I wish I had a Gio to call my own. Under eighteen, of course._

* * *

Will Stronghold sat in a small booth at the Paper Lantern, twirling chopsticks in between his fingers and occasionally shredding them. He tended to casually destroy inanimate objects when he was anxiously waiting for something. Like tonight, when he was waiting for Warren to spill his guts for once.

"Need another pair of chopsticks?" Warren snorted, refilling his drink.

"Are your ready to talk now?" He asked eagerly, pushing the chopsticks and the small strips of wood he peeled off of it aside.

"Let me clock out, first." Warren rolled his eyes, "Lee just showed up for his shift."

Will nodded and moved onto the napkins, making a small mountain of tissue confetti before Warren came back and sat across from him, lacking the apron he had a few minutes ago.

"So, what's on your mind?" He asked eagerly, adding the mountain of napkin shavings to the mess of chopsticks.

Warren immediately shook his head and stood up, "I can't do this. You're worse than Layla."

"Wait, wait!" Will raised his hands in surrender, "I won't say _anything_ until you're done. I promise."

Warren narrowed his eyes in disbelief, but eventually sat back down.

"What I'm about to tell you is never to be mentioned again. To _anyone_. Not even your little girlfriend."

Will nodded seriously and mimed zipping his lips shut. Warren groaned and looked determinedly at the table, so he wouldn't be tempted to set fire to his best friend and throw him in a nearby dumpster.

"My dad--Baron Battle," Will nodded to say that, yes, he knew that already, and to get on with the story already, "He didn't just stop at thirty two civilians, five injured supers, and four banks."

"Yeah, he also stole the lead in Oklahoma," Will joked, before remembering he was supposed to stay quiet. Warren either didn't notice, or chose to ignore it, and continued on as if Will hadn't said anything.

"He also killed two supers." Will's eyes widened slightly. Was he allowed to know this? "The Drakes."

A/N: Gasp! Le drama!

So it's been a few centuries since I've posted anything. I had mild writer's block and lots of homework. High school homework. I'm in high school now. Sigh. I will attempt to update regularly, though. Emphasis on attempt.


	11. Super Gladiators

I felt very on display right now.

It was Super Gladiator day, a little name I made up for it since the real one was something cheesy like the Hero Tournament or whatever. Anyway, it was basically one big gym class. All. Effin'. Day.

Coach Boomer had decided to pull in more supplies courtesy of his endless government funding and set up this elaborate obstacle-type arena, told us to split up in groups of ten (regardless of grade, thank god. I doubt I even know nine other freshman that I'm on speaking terms with.

So me, Betsy, Janice, Quinn, Warren, Will, Layla, Ethan, Magenta, and Zach added up to ten people. Exactly. Man, did I luck out. Everyone else was scrambling around, kicking people out, accepting complete strangers into their cliques, and all the people I've spoken with so far and did not end up completely hating (although I wasn't so sure about Stronghold, the weirdly awkward patriotic boy) filled up the requirement completely.

We were supposed to act like we were in super teams, coordinate our attacks, and basically take down the opposing team using our mad skills.

Like Save the Citizen, only less forgiving and we only had to avoid hitting the cardboard cutouts of innocent bystanders.

Our group was labeled as heroes, of course. We get to wear blue armor. The villains wear red. Warren doesn't look disgruntled by this at all, though if the colors were switched I probably would've thrown a hissy fit over how Warren gets to wear his designated color but I don't....

Oh well, Warren was ignoring me again anyway. The bitch. And Stronghold kept giving me these awkward glances ever since this morning when I passed him in the hall.

"Hey, dipwit." I snapped, feeling very fed up with the shifty looking patriotic boy, "Either grow a pair or pay attention to the game."

What, were my gym shorts riding up? I quickly glanced behind me and found that my shorts looked completely normal and the armor didn't make me look as horribly disgusting as it did on Speed. No offense to him.

I sighed. Of course my team was the first one up, since we had the wonderful Will Stronghold that everyone loved seeing fight. Just like his parents, cue mental eye roll.

We were teamed up against kids I'd never seen before as the villains. They were supposed to steal a bag of fake jewelry from our end in the next ten minutes, and if they managed to do that they would get another ten minutes to bring it back to their spot. According to Magenta, they were just a bunch of sidekicks, which would explain why they kept sending terrified glances towards Warren.

Our job was to defend the loot and detain the villains.

The timer rang, indicating that we were to commence with the butt kicking.

Quinn, being the lazy bastard that he was, smirked and ended the game as quickly as it started.

"Everyone in the opposing team; fall asleep until you're disqualified." He had to be specific, ever since he almost killed Warren with his vague commands.

Warren growled at him for stopping the game so early.

Damn, he's creepily powerful.

But the best gym partner ever.

~*~

It turns out that Super Gladiator Day is Super Gladiator _Rest of the Week_, something that I threw a hissy fit over as Lash and his team completely destroyed their opposing hero team. Because of course they're villains, right? It wouldn't be cliche enough if they were picked as hero's once in awhile.

So, anyway, Ethan says that for the rest of the week, it'll be elimination match after another until finally there's only one team. And the winning team'll get $10,000 to split up and a shiny trophy. Which means a thousand dollars. Each.

Oh _God, _think of all the Top Ramen I could buy with that kind of money... 5,000 packets of instant Top Ramen.... And maybe if I bought it in bulk I'd get a discount....

Better yet, think of all the cool belts I could get.

"Emily, stop drooling. It's disgusting." Janice sneered, slapping me on the back of the head, "I know you had a brief affair with the Elasti-linquent over there, but have some dignity!"

I blinked, noticing that when I started staring off into space imagining all the things I could buy, it was in the general area of where Lash was cackling and torturing a team of sidekicks.

"A thousand dollars can buy so much..." I said wistfully, completely ignoring her except to lean my head on her shoulder and imagine diamond bling on my fingers.

"I could adopt eight cats." Janice nodded, smiling a little.

"Only eight?" Quinn asked, surprised. He thought that kittens came from cardboard boxes with the word 'FREE' scrawled on it.

"The adoption fee is $125 at Tabby's."

"But if you spend all your money buying the cats, how are you going to pay for their food and shit?" I asked, and smirked as her smile dropped quickly.

"Think of all the cat litter you'll go through." Quinn wrinkled his nose, "Your house'll stink."

"We probably won't win anyway." Ethan shrugged.

"Yeah, it's always one of the seniors who ends up beating everyone's asses." Magenta scoffed.

"We were close last year, though," Layla said encouragingly, "We got down to the top ten."

"Yeah, and that was just with Warren and Will doing most of the work." Zach waved his hands around excitedly, "Just think of how much butt we're gonna kick with a team that doesn't suck!"

"Who was on your team last year anyway?" Quinn asked.

"Stacy was with us last year. She could turn into a beach ball." Layla smiled in a way that discouraged any laughter at the power.

"Along with a human calculator and this one junior with selective hearing." Magenta snorted.

"Selective hearing? How is that a power?" Janice frowned.

"He's completely immune to whatever Coach Boomer can throw at him." I whistled low, impressed.

"Unfortunately he wasn't immune to Larry's fist." Warren scoffed.

"And the winner is," The coach boomed, "The villains: Team six!"

As if Lash's team would've lost on the first round.

"Hey," I frowned, seeing two familiar hot men who were part of that whole Brotherhood fiasco talked about two chapters ago, Jacques and Petrakis, paired up with Speed, Lash, Penny, and five other people who I vaguely recognized, "Didn't Lash and that guy get into a fight?"

"Huh." Layla frowned, "That's strange."

Jacques' eyes suddenly flickered towards me, as if he knew what we were talking about, and smirked. Very seductively.

"Oh man, that guy is a _villain_." Janice gasped, "Guilty for the crime of being so fu-"

"Janice!" Betsy squeaked, speaking for the first time all day.

"Yeah, we have to keep the ratings down for now." I frowned, but agreeing with Janice entirely. "Man, him and Petrakis both... Is that group they're part of have something to do with male modeling?"

"I wish." Janice sighed.

"Yeah, because then green boy would have to look nice, too." Magenta scoffed.

I spotted a boy in Lash's group with green-tinged skin and spiked green hair, walking with his back hunched slightly and a wicked smirk on his face.

"He's not that unfortunate looking." I shrugged. I mean, his coloring wasn't schmexy, and he was a little slimy looking, but just because he was green didn't mean he was ugly. In fact, I wish every guy had bone structure. He was like Adrien Brody with a slightly smaller nose.

Warren, who had been ignoring me all morning like a jackass, suddenly turned to me and glared.

"What?" I asked, defensive. I hissed at Will for good measure, who was starting to give me those awkward glances again.

"Um," Will started awkwardly, "What Warren means is that those guys have a bad reputation, and you probably shouldn't hang with them."

"I didn't say anything in the first place, dumbass." Warren snapped, glaring at Stronghold, too.

"Then what were you _going _to say?" I huffed, feeling fed up with his male PMSing.

"Nothing! He wasn't going to say anything." Will smiled and Layla, who received some psychic message from Will, nodded enthusiastically.

"You know how Warren is," Layla laughed in a playfully nervous way when Warren sent her an offended glare, "He gets offended at the strangest things."

I frowned, knowing that she was right, but still feeling like they were hiding something from me. My eyes narrowed at Will, smirking a little when he gulped. Layla was probably just supporting Will blindly, trusting in his actions, and Warren wasn't going to tell me anything without acting like a huffy little girl.

But, Will....

Will was going _down_ afterschool.

Author's Note: I know what you're thinking. What the hell did Will and Warren talk about after the bomb dropped!? Well, it's a mystery for now. I'll have a flashback in a few chapters, after a bunch of planned out drama.

Oh, and don't expect publish-worthy action scenes for the tournament. Writing about fights? Not my forte.


	12. A Brief Glimpse Outside Emily's Mind

**Warning: Third Person**

When Will came home from the paper lantern that day, out of all the scenarios that could've filled his head, one including a revived Royal Pain bent on dismembering him slowly with her various death machines, he never would have thought it possible that Emily Perkins would be sitting on his couch drinking tea and laughing. With his parents.

Somehow, it just seemed to disturb him.

"Emily!?" He asked, his eyes wide, frozen in the doorway to the living room.

"Oh, Will!" His mother gushed, walking over to him and ushering him over to the sofa, "You didn't tell me you were friends with such an interesting girl!"

"I didn't even know she knew where I lived." He muttered to himself.

"Silly Stronghold," Emily waved away his discomfort, or attempted to because the fact that she was in his house, decked out in checkers and chains, made him feel very disturbed. "Anyone who has common sense and access to your friends can find out where you live."

Will paled, scenarios of Emily torturing either Zach or Ethan or _both _clear in his mind. Emily scoffed, practically reading his mind, and rolled her eyes.

"I called Magenta." She refused to elaborate further on her thoughts, mostly swear words directed towards his being, only because of the two nice, if not corny, parents sitting on either side of her, "Is it okay if I talk to your son in private?"

She smiled sweetly, looking up at Stronghold Sr. cutely and blinking innocently.

"Sure thing! Will, we're going to start dinner, okay?" Will's mom grinned, dragging his father into the kitchen.

Once they were out of hearing distance, and Will was whiter than WonderBread, or something else abnormally white and pasty, Emily's friendly smile dropped and an intimidating glare replaced her features. She almost looked like Warren when she glared like that, and Will swallowed uneasily and looked away, slowly inching away from her on the couch.

"What are you hiding from me?" She accused, not even bothering to be specific. She knew he knew what she was talking about. And he knew that she knew it.

"Nothing, nothing!" Best friend's trust or the right thing.... Will was so conflicted inside!

"Bull!" She bit out, quick and sharp, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "If it's something that concerns me, then I have a right to know."

"It's Warren' secret." Will breathed, eventually taking the cowardly road, "He should be the one to tell you about it."

"Warren is as pissy as a pregnant woman. In labor." Will snorted, then grimaced at the mental image, before quickly wiping free all facial expressions at Emily's glare. She really was like Warren, in a way, "I don't like secrets."

Like how she's secretly Iceman and Shadowcat's orphaned daughter. And she hasn't told anyone.

"And I don't like it when they're secrets about _me_."

Like how Baron Battle made her an orphan. And no one bothered to tell her.

"It's not my secret to tell." Even though it killed him, seeing the hurt flash briefly behind her eyes, almost hidden but not quite by her annoyed scowl. He knew it was wrong, whatever was going through Warren's mind, and if it were anyone _but _Warren he would have either convinced him to tell already or told himself.

But it was Warren, and Warren was so completely foreign to him, despite being so close, and Will had no right to mess with whatever reasoning the enigma that was Warren Peace came up with.

Plus, Will also feared for what Warren would do to him more than Emily.

Only a little bit more, though.

"You... You're too damn loyal!" Emily growled frustratedly before angrily stalking out of the house.

Will's parents came in from the kitchen, hearing Emily's loud exit, and his father chose to act out his roll of the somewhat dimwitted comical parent and say something obvious that would have the audience giggling.

"Is she not staying for dinner then?"

Josie Stronghold slapped her husband's arm.

* * *

~**Briefly in 1st person~**

That stupid little loyal-to-his-friends overly patriotic do-gooder! Damn him and all his supposedly good traits!

Better yet, damn Warren! Stupid Warren, ignoring me all day except to snap at me whenever he felt like it. And keeping _secrets _about me! I don't know what the hell he would keep from me, since I'm pretty sure I've found out all the secrets there could possibly be about my life, but I want to know, dammit!

I slammed the door to my house, feeling a little better with the force I put behind it.

But tomorrow was Thursday, which meant that it was closer to being Friday, which meant that soon the week would be over and I'd be allowed a little breathing time before the torture that is high school started up again.

And maybe tomorrow I'd get to relieve some anger on an unsuspecting opponent of mine.

~**end 1st person~**

* * *

Rachel frowned at the Super Sub at her isolated lunch table in the cafeteria. You hypnotize two people to think they're dating in the hopes of getting some mental quiet from the weird blue-haired chatterbox who's inner dilemmas were causing her thoughts to scream out at every telepath within megaphone distance, and everyone's ignoring you all of a sudden. Sure, Rachel didn't have many friends before, but at least she got along with some kids well enough to sit with them and talk about nothing.

Now they were all the way across the cafeteria and everyone was avoiding eye contact and regarding her with fear as if she was her dead mother about to pounce on them.

Not to mention whatever the hell they were doing in gym all day only accentuated how isolated she really was. She didn't even have a _team_, which mean she would probably fail gym miserably.

She gave the cafeteria a glare and took a vicious bite out of her sub. Fine. If they were all going to take Perkins' side, she didn't need them. She didn't need anyone.

The seat in front of her creaked and she looked up with well-masked hope. In front of her was a calm girl with mousy brown hair and thick rimmed glasses, looking as polite as she possibly could when sitting in front of a moody telepath. Uninvited.

Rachel quickly tried to do a mental scan to find out her intentions before she ran into a mental wall as thick and impenetrable as the door to the Cerebro room.

"It's rude to read minds without permission." The girl remarked, smiling sweetly at the girl.

"Who are you?"

"Betsy Guthrie. Our dads are friends."

"Because they were both X-Men." Rachel replied, noting that she did look somewhat familiar. The following, 'along with our dead mothers' was present in both of their minds yet remained unspoken.

"And because you were raised by an X-Man, you must have some shadow of morals present in your mind." She spoke coolly and detached, her posture still composed and stiff, not leaning forward an inch as the conversation progressed. Wisps of brown hair escaped from her ponytail and tickled the sides of her face, but she paid them no heed, although Rachel was twitching to fix it.

"Don't bother, my father already drilled every reason why what I've done was completely unacceptable and how my mother never would've even thought to use her powers like that unless it was a matter of life or death. Which it wasn't."

"I haven't come to lecture you. If you haven't figured out that what you've done is wrong, than I have no problem giving up on you." If Rachel hadn't trained herself to remain outwardly apathetic to every little thing in her life, she would have winced at the cold tone and equally cold words.

"Then why're you here?" Rachel drawled, easily slipping into a sarcastic voice, "To talk about how we both would've easily gotten into the Xavier Institute but ended up in this shithole of a school? You don't look like someone who would avoid the school just because your father's an instructor there. He's the Metals teacher there, right?"

Betsy nodded curtly, not bothering to answer any of her other questions, "I haven't come here for meaningless conversation. I've come here to warn you that Emily is my friend. Try something like that again and I'll fill your mind with so many nightmares that you'll be nothing more than a bundled mess of screaming paranoia when I'm through with you."

A chill ran down Rachel's back, but she couldn't tell whether it was out of excitement or fear.

"So you got your mother's powers. We have a lot in common, don't we?" No wonder she couldn't read her mind. Rachel set her sub down and leaned back, crossing her arms behind her head to disguise her increasing interest and caution of this girl, "Impressive. But you don't need to worry about driving me insane with my deepest fears. Professor Xavier already helped me fortify my mental shield during my suspension. No voices are coming in here unless I want them too." She grinned quickly and picked up the last bit of her sub, tossing it into her mouth. "Besides, I don't know why they're not together already, anyway. It's only pride and self-doubt that's stopping them from getting together."

"Whatever reasons there are to prevent Warren and Emily from dating, you still don't have any right to mess with their heads."

"Haven't I told you that I'm over that already? Jeez, relax." Rachel rolled her eyes and took a sip from her water bottle. She had to admire the girl, though. She looked quiet and innocent, but she wasn't afraid to speak her mind and/or intimidate others when she needed to. But, then again, when it came to mutants, looks were _very _deceiving. "So, are we friends?"

"I came here to threaten you, not make friends."

Rachel couldn't help but follow Betsy with her eyes as she quickly maneuvered around the tables and walked out the cafeteria.

Interesting.

Author's Note: You didn't expect Rachel to just disappear with her brief suspension, did you?

* * *


	13. And the Competition Comes to an End

Life sucks.

I say this now, in my white armor and blue jumpsuit... thing that I was forced into... awaiting my impending doom. Yes, doom. For, this was the final game of the Super Gladiators. We had finished every game we had so far in less than five seconds, thanks to Quinn, so the games were finishing on Thursday rather than Friday.

Many had tried to stop Quinn's vocal chords. Oh yes, they did. But we had some of the best protect him, and protect him we did. Some tried covering their ears. Quinn yelled loudly. Some kid transformed into a beach ball.... I drop-kicked her out of the arena. Another guy had selective hearing... Warren threw flames at him and Layla quickly tied him up in vines before he was killed by Warren's trigger happy fingers.

Yes, it was a very easy ride so far.

But now, for the final trial, the two best teams were put together for one... Final... Match.

Heroes.... Us, I mean... Against... The villains.

Dun. Dun. DUN!

Speed and Lash, of course. They were paired up with Penny, the cloning bitch, and a silent girl. She was a Junior, who was apparently distantly related to Speed. And a loner. Poor thing. There were six others, including the cute guy who had bought me a Yogoo, Jacques. I didn't know the others, though. They weren't important enough.

He smirked at me and waved, and I cursed my ability to swoon over pretty eyes and waved back before glaring at Janice who was also smirking at me. Only it was knowingly, not flirtingly. Knowing smirks are mean.

Warren started glaring at the other team with the hatred of a thousand seas. Or suns. Or both. Lash and Speed were quick to give as good as they got, glaring like only jaded juvenile delinquents can, and Quinn joined in with the glaring, sending Jacques a deep scowl. Jacques gave Warren and Quinn a disinterested glance before smirking at me again. Ooh, that was smooth.

But the glaring had to stop.

"Hey," Layla said, putting a hand on Warren's arm before jumping back quickly. I raised an eyebrow before realizing he had waves of heat coming off of him. Thank god I was a pyrokinetic and couldn't get burned from the heat, "There's no need to get so worked up. It's just gym class."

"Yeah," I quickly agreed, sending a worried glance to the hotheaded boys on my team. Zach was trying to look cool and glaring like a wannabe gangster, and Ethan was by his side trying to look tough. Janice just looked amused, "No hard feelings, whoever the winner is, right? I mean, no need to let testosterone and the catty side of estrogen," Side glance at Penny, "blow things out of proportion. This is a school competition, and school is stupid, therefore we shouldn't bother getting worked up over stupid things, right?"

Lash smirked at me, Jacques smirked at me, one tall brunette boy sent me a look of amusement, Speed cackled evilly, and Penny gave me a "Z" snap before saying something bitchy about how she was better than me.

A green tinged boy, though, with a hunch, didn't look like he was paying attention to what I was saying at all. He was staring at me, though. And Layla. And now Janice. Below... Our faces.....

I started glaring. Oh, that pervert was going _down_.

"And here it is, our final game of the week. Villains against Heroes. Who will triumph?"

The nameless announcer, some random student hooked up to a megaphone, rang through the arena, sending everyone's adrenaline pumping.

As soon as the starter rang, the green boy coughed up some nasty shit from his mouth and sent it pelting in the air lightening quick, landing on Quinn's face before anyone could even react. It would be so easier if one of us had superspeed, or atleast quicker reflexes. Because now our ticket to no effort success was a liability with green gunk covering his mouth... And his nose....

Oh god, could he _breathe!?_

I quickly rushed over to him, aiding Janice and her transformed hand as she attacked the hardened green crap with animals claws, stealing some of Warren's fire and trying to melt it off while also ripping at the rapidly melting goo.. He'll be fine, he once told me he could hold his breath for five minutes. I don't want to know how he found that out, though.

"And right off the bat, Heroes' ace in the hole is down for the count! Perkins and Carlysle are attempting to aid him while the villains immediately set off after the prize. Petrakis, Dukes, Toynbee, and Sontag are staying behind, though. Do they have anything planned? And Greenleaf takes out a seed from her pocket! Her control over her powers are astounding!"

He emerged two minutes later, gasping and slightly singed, the half of his face that I had been working on a bright red. I smiled in relief, Janice hugging him tightly, and I looked around to survey the damage.

Layla had covered the loot with a maze of strong vines, one of them holding up Speed by the feet, almost thirty feet in the air. Penny was knocked out a few feet away from the maze, whimpering in her sleep with two people I didn't know, and Lash was tangled in Layla's vines that moved as fast as he stretched, tangling him further each time he tried to escape.

Speed's relative lady was knocked out, too. She didn't look too beat up about it, though. She looked like she was faking it. Probably hated fighting, the complete opposite of her teammates.

So that left four of them; Jacques, the green boy, the tall brunette boy from before, and a dumpy looking blond girl. And they were just _standing _there.

"Hey, Quinn, you alright?" Janice finally asked.

He nodded, opening his mouth to say something, before squeaking slightly, managing to gasp out, "Shit. I lost my voice." or "Shiuhhh. Haalawaavoy."

Are you _serious_?

I scowled, annoyed at the fact that I'd probably have to work, and stole more of Warren's fire, thankful that he always was in combat mode during these games. And thankful that through many therapy sessions and private practice with a lighter I pawned off of Warren I could manage through gym without having a panic attack or trying to burn everything in sight.

John told me the second choice wasn't out of the ordinary.

Before I could burn anyone, insert maniacal laughter, the tall brunette boy _stomped on the fucking ground, _and the whole arena started shaking.

Quinn squeaked out what I thought was a cuss word.

Layla dropped Speed on his head, rendering him unconscious. I giggled.

Zach fell on top of Magenta and she started cursing.

Will flew into the air and attempted to punch brunette boy out. The big blond lady intercepted him, though. And he bounced off of her stomach.

Ew.

But I was practically unphased during the mini-earthquake. Little did anyone know, but I was the one in inflatable bouncy rooms that they got for little kiddies birthdays who have never fallen. I was the girl in chains who never fell off of it, but instead crushed her opponents with her mighty bouncing of doom. I have spent hours in arcades getting highscores on those snowboarding games. I have danced on a skateboard.

The shaking had stopped, and I shook my head in slight dizziness before shooting a stream of fire at him before he could start again. He dodged, but then I twisted the fire so it shot after him.

The green boy shot forth and started going after the loot, jumping and doing flips to avoid Layla's vines. Warren debated quickly whether or not to aid him, but then decided that he should stick to throwing fire at other people not around Layla's maze trap, since he would probably just burn it all down.

The toadish looking man was almost at the loot before he suddenly fell flat on his face. The audience grew quiet. Was toadish man _really _that clumsy, that he would trip and fall over nothing after dodging Layla's vines.

But then Ethan appeared out of nowhere right next to him, brushing off his jacket.

The audience cheered as the toad man was lifted into the air by Layla's vines.

"And Jenny Dukes is down for the count, thanks to the combined effort of Stronghold and Peace! Perkins is cornering Petrakis with her pyrokinetics, will this match draw to a close? Sontag is just standing! What is he planning? Oh wait, no! He seems to be focusing on something! He lifts his hand and—Wow! The vines are all obliterated! Oh, right, he can conjure up sonic waves."

I turned around quickly and gaped at the mess of greenery that Jacques had caused. That was one hell of a sonic... thingy.

"Peace and Stronghold are now going after Sontag! Ooh, and Peace accidentally singes some of Stronghold's hair!"

I sniggered, before almost falling and narrowing my eyes further at Petrakis. Stupid man taking advantage of my distraction.

"And Petrakis has stomped his foot at Perkins while she was surveying Sontag's damage! She's quick to retaliate, though, and quickly creates a circle of fire around him! It has now turned into a wall of fire! The arena is shaking uncontrollably! The only two left standing are Perkins, who has, despite tripping over her own shoelaces this morning," How the hell did he know that?! "an amazing sense of balance, and Stronghold! Who is in the air! And he quickly knocks out Sontag! Heroes win!"

Finally. Where's the prize?

* * *

Author's Note: I just realized something.

I suck at action scenes. I had to add in a narrator just so it wouldn't suck at much with just Emily telling the story. Because, you know, she doesn't have eyes in the back of her head. And even with all she sees, she doesn't really notice much...

I posted a Christmas one-shot thing, because I can, so all of you who don't actually look at my profile, look at it. It's plotless, though, and not that funny, so you don't actually have to.

And all these OCs are actually tying into the plot, they're not just there for show. And yes, there is a plot. And romance. Eventually.


	14. Ouchies

"We won! We won, we won, we won!"

Zach and Ethan commenced in a very manly chest bump.

I giggled.

"Where's the money? I want to buy things now." Magenta scowled impatiently, switching her weight from one foot to the other.

"Ah, I have to get my wallet!" I exclaimed.

"For a check?" Janice frowned.

"I heard it was in cash." Ethan offered.

"I heard it was in Spanish doubloons." Zach said excitedly, "And that Mr. Sparrow funded it himself from his old pirating days."

"That's stupid." Magenta quickly shot down his idea, "It's probably in cash."

"Regardless, I need my wallet. Like hell am I going to walk around with a thousand dollars in my pocket."

"Yeah, cause your wallet is a much harder target." Warren said sarcastically. He wasn't as silent around me anymore like the day before... I'm not sure whether or not it's a good thing.

"Damn straight." I said before beginning the long trek to my locker.

I tripped over a boy on the floor, writing or something, and walked to my locker to fumble with the lock and get my wallet. It was a very cute wallet. It had all these little tiny blue fuzzball cartoons bouncing around it. Not literally, of course, but it looked like they were jumping around, and there were all these weird Japanese characters on it that this guy from middle school said were sound effects. Like the Japanese equivalent to "Boink!"

Something blunt and heavy suddenly hit me in the back, and while little sparks exploded behind my eyes. But I refused to be taken over by the pain. Despite how painful this pain was and the fact that I was on the ground struggling to get up.

And you know why? Because I've passed out so many times this year! I'm looking like a damsel in distress going 'Ah! Save me! Save me! Swoon.' Like Janet from Rocky Horror, only I don't have blond hair and I'm not forced out of all clothes other than my undergarments. And I'm not marrying a man named after Barbie's ex. That is one fun cult flick, though.

I was hit again, this time on the head, and gritted my teeth as black spots clouded my vision.

No, no, _no. _This was not happening. Fight, Emily! Fight it!

Ouchies.

* * *

What is that blinding pain? Ew. Pain. I never did like pain when it was... On me...

Ah, I see the light..!

"Hey, she's waking up!"

Oh. Hospital light so blinding that I can see it through my eyelids. Got it.

"Emily, are you feeling okay?"

"Stop crowding around her! You guys'll make her pass out again!"

"Ugh..."

I feel owie all over. I grit my teeth and assumed the fetal position, holding my head and wincing as I moved my arms because of the pain now coursing through my spine.

"Don't move, idiot. You broke two ribs and fractured your skull. The nurse healed them, but it should still hurt like a bitch."

Ah, Warren. Your cheery disposition is overwhelming. Really.

"Go 'way, ass ho."

"Can't. Unfortunately. I'm giving you a ride home."

I opened one eye to glare at him.

"Nn. Stupid." Which roughly translated into 'We _fly_ home. And you don't have a license.'

"They only fly you so far. And I have a bike, not a car."

"Get that scowl off of your face, babe. You'll get wrinkles." Janice said soothingly.

Damn him and his hot motorbike. Didn't you need a license for that, too? Wasn't that license usually acquired after you already got your driver's license? Unless he was one of those kids that got into races at those professional tracks, all tiny and scruffed up.

"What happened?" I asked groggily, moving back into my previous back-facing-the-bed position with Janice helping me. "My head feels like a caveman tried to hit me on the head and drag me by my hair to impregnate me. And then wild apes joined the party and started jumping... On my back... Repeatedly."

"Some kid found you unconscious by your locker, bleeding from the head."

"Great." I said, distinctly remembering blinding pain on my back, and then my head.

* * *

"I thought you said you hit her hard enough on the head to knock her out for a week!"

"I did! Honest! I hit her really really hard!"

"Not hard enough, apparently."

"Yo, what are we gonna do now? Still gonna go through with it all?"

"Of course. It's too late to stop everything now. We'll just have to work extra hard to restrain all of them."

"And I thought this year we'd only have to deal with Stronghold and his two super lackeys."

"Don't worry. The hypnosis still hasn't gotten his voice back, and the dreamweaver can only focus her mind on two people at most. We'll be fine."

"We better be."

* * *

"I'm really doubting that school, Emily."

"_Mark, _come _on._" I whined, picking at bits of broccoli. Why broccoli? Why not cauliflower? It tasted a lot better.

"I mean, how many times have you passed out in that school?" He insisted from across our little cheap dinner table.

"Only a few times," And a couple hallucinations containing Doctor Who references followed by dizzy spells. But one of those times was at Hothead's house. So it's not the school's fault.

"And now the students are attacking you! Remember Charles Xavier? We've talked about this before you decided on Sky High," I just then connected fancy boarding school owner to guy that my blood parents were talking about. Smart me, "His offer still stands."

"I'm not going to a boarding school, Mark. Your health is getting worse, I can't leave you alone."

"I'll be fine. Remember our neighbor? The one who helped you when you fell?" From discovering that my parents weren't really my parents, "She works at the hospital."

"I'm not leaving your well being in the hands of a neighbor who can only help you when she's not on call at the hospital and the old woman who flirts with you on the second floor!"

"Emily, if it means you'll be safe, I'm willing to hire a nurse. And besides, you're at school half the time and I'm fine then, right?"

"Don't guilt trip me for having an education. And besides, I have my cell phone at all times and I heard that the sophomores I hang out with have an ex-bus driver at his beck and call. I like it at the school. True, I may have been fainting like a distressful damsel on crack," And having a fair amount of hallucinations only briefly mentioned in the story so far, "But I have friends—Haven't you always wanted me to have actual friends? And I'm learning how to use my powers without having flashbacks and panic attacks. Mark, I think I'm happy."

He huffed.

"I'm not letting another incident like that happen again. You're friends with Will Stronghold, Right? Nice boy... superstrength..."

"Are you insinuating something?"

"I don't know..." He shifted his eyes towards me, "Am I?"

"I'm not hiring a bodyguard."

"It's not hiring. It's ensuring protection."

"It's muscle."

"You were attacked."

"I was caught off guard. What, do you want me to cling to his arm like a leech?"

"As long as it means you're safe."

"How about I cling to someone else. Like someone who's not only my... Friend," I cringed at considering Stronghold that, even if that might sort of be what he is, "But someone who I actually get along with, too."

"Really? Who are you suggesting?"

"A multitude of people. Betsy—She's a dream manipulator. And Quinn, he says things and forces you to do them with his mind. Voice hypnosis or some really fancy term that I can't remember. And Janice is a shapeshifter! She could shape into something badass."

"You're not allowed to be alone in that school." Mark said gravely after hearing those frightening powers. True, they were my friends, but that meant that other people just as powerful went to my school, too. And not everyone was my friend.

"I'll stalk everyone's shadows."

"One more incident like that, Emily, and you're going to the boarding school."

"Okay, okay. Don't worry so much. Tomorrow's the Valentine's Dance anyway. The only time I'll be passing out there is if some really hot guy declares his undying love for me."

The author's diabolical laughter had gone unheard to everyone.

Author's Note: Children should not play Neopets. Seriously. I had a brief obsession with it in third grade, and because of that I can't spell doubloons right. I mean, already there are thousands of little children spelling everything horribly wrong, and now Neopets is adding oil to the fire by spelling things wrong and _making them look right._


	15. Floating Cars and Phone Conversations

_Warren frowned while trotting after his father, his short legs moving quickly to match the older man's long strides. He was only four years old, and was out of breath by the time they reached their destination. He was careful to even out his breathing quickly, to look as strong and collected as his father was._

"_This is your kid, Baron?" The man asked at the counter, smiling down at the young boy._

"_Sure is." Baron replied proudly._

"_He looks just like you." Warren puffed up with pride.  
_

"_The little tyke is gonna grow up to be just like his dad. Right, Warren?" Warren grinned up at his father before scanning the daycare with barely hidden excitement._

"_Is this really a place for kids like me?" Warren scowled, seeing nothing but ordinary children playing with each other._

"_Your mom wouldn't lie to you." Baron chuckled, "I'll pick you up in a few hours."_

_Warren nodded distractedly, earning another chuckle from his father, and immediately set off, intent on playing with the bright red fire truck he spotted. His face quickly turned once again into a scowl, however, when a girl managed to grab it before him._

"_Hey! That's mine!" He protested, his little tiny hands balling up into fists._

_The girl, hearing his shout, looked up at him and stuck her tongue out._

"_It doesn't have your name on it, butt-face!" The brunette girl hugged the truck close to her chest, the color blending in with her equally bright red t-shirt. Her amber eyes glittered teasingly as she grinned at him.  
_

"_It doesn't need to!" Warren grabbed onto the truck and the two wrestled for it, biting (in the girl's case) and kicking at each other._

"_Stop fighting!" A small boy with brown hair yelled, tugging at his blue shirt with red and white sleeves in agitation, but the two of them ignored him in favor of hurting each other._

_The only thing that stopped them from killing each other was when what they were fighting over disappeared in place of a black puddle tinted with red. Warren wrinkled his nose in distaste, the smell of burning plastic making him nauseous._

"_It wasn't me this time, I swear!" The girl quickly yelled, throwing her hands into the air, melted plastic dripping down her arms, "Mom made me leave the lighter at home this time!"  
_

"_It was probably the both of you." A man rolled his eyes and picked the brunette girl up by the waist, careful not to touch the mess on her arms, "I swear, as if it weren't enough trouble with just the pyrokinetic. Now we have a flamethrower, too? Hey, Peace, c'mere. We're gonna clean the two of you up."_

_Warren frowned. What was a pyrokiwhatsit? Instead of following after the two, he flicked his hands and burnt the rest of the mess off of him._

"_Hey! Kid! Don't just start fires whenever you feel like it! Do you know how bad burnt plastic smells?" The man grabbed both of Warren's arms harshly and a cold numb feeling washed over them, the heat that was always with him suddenly gone. He shivered. What just happened?_

"_Can I do that too, Leech? It beats soap and water." The girl asked eagerly._

"_No, Emily. God knows you'd try and set me on fire, too. One more fire out of either of you two and I'm going to take away everyone's powers for the entire day, got it?"_

_Her only response was to grin._

_Warren watched curiously at the girl as she was carried off by the older man. Heat slowly returned to him as the man went farther away and he sat down, quickly finding an orange ball to bounce up and down while still thinking of the strange girl. Was she a firestarter, too?_

_

* * *

_"So how's this going to work?" I asked boredly, sipping on my morning coffee and careful not to spill any on his leather upholstery. Apparently the little bugger _did _have a license. Or, not a license, but the ability to drive. So he unearthed this cherry red Mustang-esque hover car that I wanted to steal immediately and started driving me to school, "Follow me around until the villain magically appears and you can beat him up with your testosterone?"

Warren snorted before sending me a glare saying, 'This is no time to joke around.'

Contradicting asshole.

"The minute you were alone, you were knocked unconscious. We're not risking that again."

"We?"

Warren raised an eyebrow.

"Right. Of course. You and the do-good sophomores. Excuse me while I choke on my tears of gratitude."

"You're welcome." Warren frowned in thought, "Just for a list of suspects... How many people have you insulted the past week?"

"Um..." I frowned in thought.

Quinn, always, but that didn't count.

That Larry kid had decided, after making his way through the hearts of every girl his grade, he would go down to the freshman girls and try his magic there.

I asked him if his brain was stuck as a rock and if he needed help powering down.

There were the kids I bumped into but then insulted as if it were there fault.

Penny, of course. Always. The bitch.

Some guy I met on the street that tried to recruit me into his satanic cult. I told him I didn't like fire.

That one house that was protesting gay marriage... I had fun spray painting all their VOTE NO signs with crude cartoons that would never make it past the censors and wrote "I'M GAY FOR GAY MEN!" on their front door.

"Never mind. I can tell the list is too long." He sighed, shaking his head. "It was right after we won the tournament, though, so that might've had something to do with it. Was anyone glaring at you in particular?"

"I was too busy thinking of cash." And what a wonderful prize it was. All in hundred dollar bills... Mmm... Money...

"Hmm." Warren narrowed his eyes, staring intently at a little dot in the sky until it turned into the school. "If you're going to the dance tonight, I'm driving you there, too."

"And when did we decide this?"

"We already went over this, Perkins. Either stay home or deal with it."

"I was planning on meeting up with Janice." I said accusingly.

"I'm not going to stop you. I'm just driving you there." We landed smoothly, Warren apparently not caring whether or not he's driving with a license or not, and I opened the door roughly.

"But then it'll look like.. I mean... Fine, then! Be my guard dog, you... Jerkface!"

The words may have been weak, but the car door slamming shut made anyone nearby cringe.

* * *

"You're alive!" Quinn exclaimed, quickly pouncing on me, Janice quickly following suit with Betty lingering behind and giving me a small smile. And Quinn was all sweaty, too, in his gym clothes.

"Get offa me!" I quickly slapped him away, "Or atleast take a shower or something."

"You're alright, though, right?" Janice asked worriedly, "We didn't see much of you after Warren rushed you off onto the bus. Was he allowed to do that? Crash another grade's bus?"

"Does it matter?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"True."

Quinn frowned.

"How come he got to take you home and not anyone else?"

"Because you'd probably try and molest her while she was high on pain pills."

I giggled.

I was still a little high on pain pills, too.

"Do you know who did it yet?" Betty asked, with a strangely dangerous tone.

"Uh, no. Warren thinks it might've had something to do with the tournament. Maybe. But the school's looking into it."

Betty nodded slowly before scanning the class with narrowed eyes, as if she could read their minds. I didn't really want to know if she could. She scares me sometimes.

This school scared me.

Today was even worse than that time when Rachel messed with my head. I had the worst luck in the world. Mr. Sparrow, after class, pulled me aside and asked me how I was holding up, if I needed something to wash down the pain pills, and after a promise to never tell anybody ever, showed me his liquor stash. I politely refused, of course, but said I might stop by during the dance. Cause who could pass up free alcohol from a teacher?

And Jamie Frost came up to me in between History and Gym and handed me this note with a look that said, "This never happened" and said that if I ever needed help that the police weren't capable enough of, to just call the number on it. It was probably connected to one of those mafia types. I saw this woman in this press conference that looked just like her, Emma Frost of Frost Co. and it turned out she's this multi-billion dollar corporation heads, so who knows what kind of freaky connections Jamie has.

* * *

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"Get in the car." Warren said, leaning against the driver's door and looking oh-so-cool with his laid back posture and leather jacket.

Grr.

"Of course I'll allow you to drive me home, Mr. Peace. You're too kind." I sneered, opening the door and slamming it once I was inside.

He didn't respond to my sarcasm and instead just got into the car himself, backing out of his spot and driving off of the school. The death grip on my seatbelt made him smirk a little, but he otherwise stayed silent.

"You... You poppy head!" I gasped out as soon as we stopped spinning wildly and steadied out. I thought I was on some poorly made roller coaster or something.

Oh god, did I just call him a poopy head? Think before speaking! What am I? Four?

"Did you just use the word poopy in an insult?" He asked in disbelief. Stop stealing my thoughts!

"Yeah, so? Would you rather me call you a-"

BEEP

"-?!" Okay, stopping the potty mouth and getting control over my temper. Breathe, you stupid dweeb, breathe.

He blinked.

"Heh. Sorry. Pain pills. Killed some of my self-restraint."

He snorted.

"You had self-restraint to begin with?"

"Oh shove off." I muttered before turning on the radio and grinning, "Man, Jared from 30 Seconds to Mars is so pretty."

"Pretty?" He asked with a bit of a sneer.

"Yes, pretty. What? Am I not allowed to have an opinion?"

"I wouldn't have pegged you for one of those pathetic girls who obsess over the looks of band members instead of the actual music."

I gasped dramatically before glaring.

"There is always at least one attractive man in all-male bands in the eyes of a female listener. If they're all ugly and average-looking at best, the band'll go to hell because there are few people who listen to music just for the music. Most people pick bands to listen to just based on the appearance of the people creating said music. Or the album artwork. I mean, people listen to Gorillaz because they stand out. They're old guys who have little cartoon characters singing their songs. Not just the music is original, but so is the image."

"So we're that pathetic that music is all about image." He said in disbelief.

"If you want unknowing music listeners to pick up your CD, hell yeah." Wow, I was so deep sometimes I even impressed myself.

"Whatever." He changed the radio station from Jared Leto's pretty voice to screamo. Blood Brothers. Fun.

I contemplated head banging out of boredom and seeing whether or not we'd start spinning wildly out of control like before, but my head still hurt and I didn't want to lose any more of the brain cells I had left.

* * *

"Emily, phone!"

"Got it!"

I picked up the blue phone in my room, purple Eduardo slippers dancing back and forth as I bounced on my bed. Pain medication was making me kind of loopy. And the dance was in just a few hours, too. I held a hand to the hair net that if anyone saw me in I would either die of embarrassment or kill whoever saw me in it.

"Hey, Emily?" Wanda's voice rang through the phone, sounding worried for the well-being of her daughter.

"Helloo." I said cheerily.

"I heard about the attack."

"Really? That was quick."

"Yeah, we have connections. Listen, have you ever met a Peace? Warren Peace?"

"Picture looks just like his damn father." John muttered quietly, due to the phone being on speakerphone, and I frowned.

"Yeah. You guys did, too. Wanted me to have his children, too."

"Wait, what? We met Warren Peace before?" I could hear the frown in Wanda's voice.

"At the Paper Lantern. You guys forced him to sit down with us?"

"No, no, that boy was too sweet."

"And he is! In a way. Glares most of the time, though. Nice leather jackets. Didn't you guys know his name?"

"We didn't know that Baron's son took his mother's name until we were looking through the files."

"So why are you asking about him?"

"Nevermind. If it's that boy we met, I doubt it was him."

"But he's Baron's son! You know how good of an actor he was. I don't even want to know how much he fucked up the poor kid."

"Warren's one of the only friends I have in that damn school!" I protested.

"And he could be the one that leads to your death!" He argued back, showing no signs of backing down. But then again, neither did I.

"John-" Wanda started apprehensively before her husband cut her off.

"Wanda, you know what Baron tried. He raised that boy, who knows what he's capable of. I'm not letting anything happen to Ems."

"I'm still on the line you know," I barked while glaring at nothing in particular, "Warren was not raised by Baron Battle. He is nothing like Baron Battle. He has, in fact, proven that he is nothing like Baron Battle multiple times and while he looks scary to others, he's nothing more than a big fire inducing teddy bear."

"I'm sure that you think so, Ems,"

A Southern voice interrupted John.

"Hothead, remember that tahme when ya came back to the mansion, scared outta yo mind and asking fo help? Your wife was Magneto's daughter. Your wife was his right hand man. Woman. Right next to mah mother. If you keep up with this argument on the sole fact that they're related, then Ah will shove mah foot so far up yo' ass you'll choke on it."

"I almost lost my life." He protested.

"And you don' regret a damn second of it." She said with an air of finality, "His wife was the sweetest thing in the world. And she's the one who raised the boy, not Battle."

"Okay." Wanda said after an awkward silence where Emily silently applauded the stranger, "What about Toynbee, Sontag, Dukes, Petrakis, Livingston, or Mack? Do you know any of them?"

"Lash Livingston and Speed Mack?"

"Yeah."

"I think I'm friends with them. The four are those Brotherhood guys, right?"

"You heard about that?"

"Yup. Some of my friends were talking about that. Petrakis got into a fight with Lash or something, but Magenta told me that that brunette on Lash's team that made everything shake was him, so apparently they kissed and made up."

"I'm not up to date on the latest gossip. Clarify?"

"For the Super Tournament thing we were doing, all of them were paired up together. Jacques is one of them, right?"

"Jacques Sontag. Arclight's son. Spawn of Magneto's old crew." John's voice growled, "They ratted him out along with the rest of us, even neutrals, in the hopes of starting their own Brotherhood led by a pissed-off Mystique while the rest of us crashed and burned."

"Did ya notice anything strange about them before you were attacked, kid?" A gruff voice asked through the speaker.

"Well, stranger, I only spoke to Jacques before. Other than Lash and Speed, of course, but there's no bad blood between us. Lash even gives me stuff on commercial holidays."

"What about Sontag?" Wanda asked.

"He bought me a Yogu...?"

"Yogloo. Yogu had mutant harming ingredients that they refused to take out, so Magneto set fire to the whole place." Wanda corrected, "John hit some chemicals and the whole place exploded."

"How long ago did he give you the drink?"

"I dunno, a couple days. Seemed nice, though."

"Did he hand it to you closed? The nurse said she found some drugs in your bloodstream."

"But I'm not a junkie!" I defended.

"Not those kinds of drugs. Dormant ones that activate when you suffer physical damage. Like a concussion. Could've landed you in a coma if she didn't catch it in time. Now answer the question."

"Well, he opened it for me, but I thought he was just being a gentleman. I wasn't really paying attention."

"What _were _you paying attention to?" John asked warily.

"Uh.." I blushed, tugging on my hair.

"Honey, _no_." Wanda groaned through the phone.

"I kind of remember looking at his eyes. And his hair." _And that wonderful smile of his_.

"He drugged you." The gruff voice said again.

"Travel in packs, okay Emily? We'll see you later."

"Okay. Bye."

Well, that was shocking. But, I mean, they didn't really know if it was Jacques. It could be Larry for all they knew. THey were probably ust looking at students who either had a juvie record or were related to villains. And that didn't mean anything.

Just in case, though, I dug out a lighter from underneath my mattress, the only thing they managed to salvage from my old home. It was kind of twisted, in a way. The only thing saved from a house fire being a zippo lighter with a design of a shark printed onto it. There was still some liquid in it despite it being God-knows-_how_-old.

I shoved it into my bag and continued getting ready.

* * *

"You _have _to tell her." Will whined through the phone. Or, at least, to Warren it sounded as if he was whining. The stupid boy was always whining at him with his stupid morals.

"I told you, I can't." He growled, shrugging on the stupid white dress shirt and buttoning it up while struggling to balance the phone on his ear. Finally, he just hit speakerphone and threw it onto his bed.

"You _have _to. It's not right to let her go on like this!"

"She's fine. Besides, she's already pissed at me for babysitting her all the time. She doesn't need a reason to kill me."

"And if she finds out some other way?"

"She won't. No one but my family and some shady government agents know."

"But you care about her. How can you lie to her?"

"I'm not lying, Mr. High Moral Standards. If she finds out my dad killed her parents, she'll kill _me_."

"So you're going to live your life as one big lie? Emily thinks that she killed her own parents! No wonder she's how she is!"

"And how exactly is she?" Warren growled.

"Um..." Will sighed, "Okay, she's crazy."

"She's not crazy."

"She's crazy because she thinks she killed her parents!"

He winced a little, remembering how she looked at homecoming.

"Would you stop yelling that?" He snapped.

"Listen, I'm not going to force you into anything. But, I mean, it's her _parents_, you know? If I thought that I killed my parents, I don't know what I'd do."

Warren sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"So, I'll just let you think over that. Bye."

"See you."

Stupid Stronghold. Why'd he have to guilt trip him right before he had to go pick up Emily for the dance?

* * *

Author's Note: And of course we know everything'll go horribly wrong at the dance. Because when do they ever end well?

The little segment at the top was a flashback, by the way. My attempt at adding depth to the story. Warren and Emily met before Sky High!? Gaspeh! There's even a baby Will. And of course they don't remember now. They're toddlers, and have now practically blocked out every memory from their childhood due to emotional scarring. I just thought it was cute.

So for those of you who want to ruin your own perception of my character, Emily, I scribbled out what she's going to look like at the dance at http : / / monachus - satraps . deviantart . com / art / Character - Spew - Emily - 109398334

Just get rid of all the spaces, but not the dashes or anything, because fanfiction is stupid.


	16. Let the Dance Begin!

Warren Peace was... Well, not so much _frustrated _as horribly and utterly at odds with himself.

At one end of his mental debate was a little voice he liked to call his "inner Stronghold," who kept calling him an idiot for lying to Perkins about things that she kind of had a right to know. Not kind of. _Really _had a right to know. But the other side of his argument, the selfish bastard, couldn't imagine the pain that he'd see on her face, the anger and rage and _sadness _that he would be at fault for.

Because really, his father ruined _everything_.

Once she knew the truth,_ if _she knew the truth, nothing would be the same anymore. She would look at Warren and, just like everyone else, see his father. He knew she wouldn't mean to, they never really _mean _to. Even the sidekicks that hung around him got those eyes sometimes. Ethan, an easy prey for bullies everywhere, would get that look of piss-your-pants fear on his face, just barely restraining himself from melting into a puddle of fear whenever Warren looked really angry, regardless of whether the anger was directed at him or not. Warren would ignore him for a few days after that, unable to get that look out of his head, or the image of his _father_. He'd had nightmares as a kid about that face, and he knew that if Emily, one of the few people who actually saw _him _instead of the insane lunatic in quarantine, knew the truth; he'd never get his father's look of insanity out of his head.

Obviously, the selfish bastard always won in his mind.

* * *

~an elaboration of the brief discussion in chapter 10 (a flashback and more!)~

__

"What I'm about to tell you is never to be mentioned again. To anyone. Not even your little girlfriend."

Will nodded seriously and mimed zipping his lips shut. Warren groaned and looked determinedly at the table, so he wouldn't be tempted to set fire to his best friend and throw him in a nearby dumpster.

_"My dad--Baron Battle," Will nodded to say that, yes, he knew that already, and to get on with the story already, "He didn't just stop at thirty two civilians, five injured supers, and four banks."_

_"Yeah, he also stole the lead in Oklahoma from my dad," Will joked, before remembering he was supposed to stay quiet. Warren either didn't notice, or chose to ignore it, and continued on as if Will hadn't said anything._

_"He also killed two supers." Will's eyes widened slightly. Was he allowed to know this? "The Drakes."_

_"You're joking. The two X-Men? Shadowcat and Iceman?"_

_"Yeah, and Emily's parents. Parents at that time, I mean." Warren rubbed his forehead in an irritated fashion, "Not like anyone ever found out, of course. Dad had a telepath under his wings at the time, Mastermind. The boy was devoted to the insane ass. He was like a second son to him. More useful to him than I ever was."_

_"Just having a telepath around can't sweep an arson underneath the rug, can it?"_

_"It can when the sole witness is a pyrokinetic who says that she did it herself. Who _**_remembers _**_spreading the fire herself. If he was found guilty of killing two highly respected and practically adored supers, it wouldn't just be a quadruple life sentence. It would be a lethal injection. The selfish bastard."_

_"So Emily thinks.."_

_"That she killed them."_

_"Fuck." Will breathed out, swearing for the first time in all of Warren's friendship with him.  
_

* * *

The bell rang.

"You look beautiful tonight, Emily." Mark said as I pranced down the stairs in stripper heels, "Go change into something hideous so the boys don't think so, either."

I smiled, kissing Mark on the cheek and walking over to the door. I had dressed up _so _much for this dance. I even dyed my hair a darker blue for the night. It was that pretty blue-black you get where it shines blue in the light. And purple contacts. Really bright purple contacts that glowed with the masquerade mask I had on. Fake eyes are so fun.

"'Bout time you showed up." I said immediately upon opening the door, "I was just about to make a run for the bus."

"The bus already left." Warren said after a moment's pause of looking at me weird. Like I was some ghost or something with it's head on backwards trying to eat him with the teeth in my hands.

"Don't correct me so easily, jerkface." I huffed before waving goodbye to Mark and leaving with him.

"Then don't give me a chance to." He shot back with ease, rapping me on the head as I got into the car.

"Easy for you to say. Asswipe." I was apparently into childish insults today. Fun fun.

He did nothing but give me a charming smile before setting off down the street and off to that ramp/abandoned highway that set us off into the sky and towards Sky High.

"So..." I said after a few minutes of silence. "The sky is pretty foggy today."

"I won't get lost." He answered briefly, his fingers tapping the steering wheel.

"Yeah, you got your headlights to guide your way. Like Rudolph."

He decided not to dignify that with a response.

In fact, he didn't respond to a lot of her conversation starters, spending most of his time zoning off and checking his cellphone, which turned out to have one of those GPS navigator things. So the GPS was his Rudolph instead of the poor, neglected headlights. I got a grunt out of him when I decided to share that thought with him and name his cellphone Rudolph.

"Baby Jesus—fuck is that!? Look out!" I yelled, my hands reaching onto my seatbelt for dear life as Warren cursed also and swerved the car wildly in the air.

"What the hell is a—was that a swan? Why the hell is it so high in the air!? In winter!? Aren't they supposed to fly east!?"

"You're thinking of ducks. And they fly north or south. Not east. Swans migrate too, but... Emily, do you think that migrating means that they just disappear off of the planet?"

I shook my head.

"They go to Bird Island to frolick around in the fresh water and make babies. Then they fly back during the sunny weather where the janitors of the island will spend their time cleaning up all the shit that had accumulated during their stay until they come back next winter."

"I can't even tell if you're serious or not. Anyway, that wasn't a swan. That was a crane."

"Like those origami things?"

"A Japanese crane. Yeah."

Since when did he know so much about birds?

"But aren't they, you know, in Japan? Unless you've been driving farther than I thought..."

"We're only a few miles from the school. As in still in America." He sighed, resting his head on the steering wheel.

Looking out the window, I snorted, causing him to look at me funny

"We're above the city." I explained.

"Yes." He said slowly, his eyes going back to the wheel, "I have eyes."

"Think how weird it would be if you're just out there, walking, and a bird that was _hit by a car _just falls in front of you. That'd be even worse than roadkill, where you just feel a bump or you just see the dead thing on the road. That'd be.. _air _kill. Plus, fresh air kill means fresh guts and big impact plus fresh guts means fresh guts splattering _everywhere_. Like a watermelon or something you drop off of a roof. Oh, ew. That'd be disgusting!" My laugh resembled the laughter of someone who had inhaled illegal substances.

Warren shook his head with a small huff of laughter, sounding much more normal than my own laugh, "Don't let Layla hear you talking like that. She'll gather all her PETA friends and skin you."

"Ouch. They'd probably wear my skin like a coat just to prove a point."

"Skin is murder." Warren muttered as I giggled a bit. All the spinning and it felt like my stomach was doing somersaults inside me, tangling up all of my intestines.

"Are we there yet?" I feel like puking.

"Just about, yeah."

Ugh, we're landing. Roughly. I hate you, pavement. I hate you too, car. And crane. And air. Must. Get. Out. Of. Car.

"Oh, ew." A passing student said as I spilled my guts out into the freshly cut lawn.

"Fuck you too." I groaned out as Warren pulled my hair away a little too late. At least he was holding my pukey hair away from my dress.

"Want to go to the bathroom and wash off?" He asked, rubbing circles onto my back.

"Can I kill myself first?"

"You can jump off of the school. We're still over the city."

I laughed before groaning again at the queasy feeling in my stomach. And the bus ride to school is bad enough on my stomach.

"I hate birds."

* * *

"This is the worst dance I've ever experienced. Ever."

"Worse than the middle school ones?" Janice asked, elbowing a girl out of her personal bubble so she could primp her hair some more. The girl glared and cursed a bit at her before huffing and fixing the streak of makeup that Janice had caused.

"I've never thrown up at middle school dances. I mean, I came close to it sometimes, through no fault of the ride there, but never actually... Throwing up..." Thank god for texting, otherwise I'd have looked very strange washing puke out of my hair all by my lonesome.

"You've got Lighter Boy outside waiting for you, though. Quinn, too. Man, it's like you have a male harem or something!" I rolled my eyes and gargled a bit of water, careful not to spit out my gum. I had about five packs and some crushed up mints, cough drops, and Janice even had one of those Listerine strips that make your tongue burn in it's mintiness.

"Two sort ofs to your thousands?" I snorted, "How many guys did you reject before announcing loudly in the middle of the hallway that you were taking my sexy ass?"

"I'm sure we can count the jealous looks you'll be getting as we get dirty on the dance floor."

"Meow." I joked before the two of us left the bathroom, glaring at a few of the girls who looked at us weird on the way out. That's how chill we were.

"Do girls always spend so long in the bathroom?" Will asked us as we approached him and Warren.

"Oh, I'm so sorry that washing bodily fluids from my hair caused you such an inconvenience." I deadpanned, frowning a bit at the tips of my hair. Some of the hair dye rinsed out, so now some of my tips were my usual crayola blue. But it was cool, I guess. Like my head was a blue fire.

Distracted with the thought of what my hair now looked like, I didn't pay attention to whatever weak comeback Stronghold gave me, along with whatever else was said after that. I didn't even notice that everyone had left until Janice came back and tugged me over to where the group was.

"So how's the dance so far? Totally poppin', right? _So _off the hook, man. Right? Am I right?" Zach 'raised the roof' while trying to look cool. It didn't work so well.

"This dance is dead. Why do we even bother coming?" Magenta rolled her eyes, and as her bitch, Zach changed his opinion to match hers.

"For the atmosphere, Magenta!" Layla said cheerfully, "When else do all of us get together and just hang out?"

"Lunch?" Magenta bit back. An eye-roll was added in for emphasis.

"I mean besides that. We never get together after school as a big group anymore. We're all just broken off into pairs, especially now that there are more people hanging out with us this year."

"This is touching and all, just completely tugging on my heartstrings," Janice rolled her eyes, "But me and Em are gonna get our freak on out at the dance floor."

"No heart-to-hearts. They're icky." I said, linking arms with Janice and walking to the gym where all the dancing was happening. Just for kicks, I stuck my tongue out at Warren on the way.

To my disappointment, he just rose an eyebrow at me instead of sticking his tongue out back. He was too mature. The bastard.

Author's Note: So it's been around two months since I've last updated? I've attempted to make this as long as possible to make up for it, though.


	17. That Mysterious Ticking Sound

"So..."

"So?"

"Emily and Janice have been dancing for a while. I mean, the dance is almost halfway through."

"That's... nice."

"There've been a bunch of slow songs, too."

"Yeah. Sure."

"And Emily danced with Janice for all of them. Except for the times when she danced with Quinn. The guy that you hate."

"I have an overwhelming need to punch you in the face. Keep talking. See what happens."

"Well you're the one who drove her here, right? And I'm pretty sure that she likes you. So why don't you ask her to dance?"

"Why aren't you with Layla or something?"

"I'm getting her punch."

They were, in fact, gathered by the punch bowl. Will, because of the reason he just said, and Warren was just standing around eating finger food so he wouldn't have to dance.

"Don't you want to be closer with her, though?" Will inquired, taking a drink from his punch cup and completely ignoring the other one in his hand meant for his girlfriend.

"Will you stop talking to me about my feelings?"

"Just because your last girlfriend turned out to be a little clingy and... well... psycho... doesn't mean that Emily will be. I mean, if anything she'll try and push you away, you know?"

"You're still talking. And mentioning things that should not be mentioned."

"Come on, that's all over with, you know? I mean, you got that restraining order and everything."

"Shut up."

"It's okay that you resorted to the legal system for your problems, Warren. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Warren followed through with his previous threat and punched his best friend in the face.

"Oh my god, Will! Are you okay?" Layla, appearing from the crowd, knelt by her boyfriend, "Don't you have superstrength?"

"He punches really... really hard."

Warren smirked.

"Wow," Emily whistled, also appearing on the scene with Janice in tow. Janice immediately ran off to the cheese cube table. "Kudos to you, fire boy. I've been wanting to do that ever since I met him. Doesn't your fist hurt, though? That's like punching a brick wall, right? Steel wall. Really.. Really solid wall."

It hurt like hell, but martial arts lessons from when he was a kid prevented any bones from breaking.

"Not a bit."

"Oh man, this song is so sappy." Emily laughed, "Too bad Janice is with the cheese cubes. I would have loved to dance to this."

"You can dance with Warren." Will popped up from the ground. Warren growled menacingly.

"You heard the boy, hotshot. We're hugging and swaying for two to three minutes whether you like it or not."

"Fine." Warren reluctantly took Emily's hand. And liked it.

"Wait..." Layla frowned, "What's that mysterious ticking noise?"

"Not ticking... It sounds more like something out of the soundtrack for Logan's Run.." Emily frowned, trying not to notice how Warren still had a hold of her hand, "Techno ticking... not a part of the sappy slow song at all."

"It feels kind of like an electronic pulse." Will noticed, "My dad always said that if you feel one to stay alert and not make any sudden movements. Or wear anything on your head, otherwise the waves would bounce around inside your skull and melt your brain."

"That was a little too much information than I needed." Emily grimaced. She took off her mask anyways. Janice catcalled before choking on a cheese cube.

And then they disappeared.

"Oh fuck. Did that cheese cube have drugs?" Janice looked around, the group that she was hanging out with now nonexistent, "Why don't I feel high then? Dammit."

"Oooh, we should probably alert the teachers." Mr. Boy suggested, grimacing from behind the punch bowl.

"Yeah, let's find someone slightly less useless than the teacher who watched from the sidelines as four students noticed an unsettling noise that should have been cause for alarm and then disappeared right before our eyes. That's smart." Janice rolled her eyes, preventing her from seeing Mr. Boy's hurt expression until she once again focused her eyesight, "Oh, I said that out of my head? Ahhh... That must have been the cheesecubes talking. Yeah." An awkward silence reigned over the two before Janice had an overwhelming need to run off, "Quinn!? Where are you!? We need to find authority to talk to!"

* * *

"Where are we?" Magenta groaned loudly, using Zach as a crutch to help her up from where everyone had fallen onto the ground.

"The cafeteria. Sans lunch tables." Ethan responded, pushing up his glasses.

"When'd the fuck you all appear?" I snarled, holding my stomach in pain. So _queasy._

"I could say the same to you." Magenta snarled back.

"All of us just appeared here from those waves." Layla reasoned, "There's no reason to argue about anything."

"Or instead of doing all this talking, we could just walk out of the cafeteria." Warren rolled his eyes.

The second after those words came out of his mouth, floating metal spheres made a circle around the group and lit up, forming a big glowing yellow barrier around them. The bright light added on to the teleportation did wonders for my queasiness.

"Oh god, I feel like throwing up again."

"Please don't have a relapse in a confined space." Will begged.

"No, no, I _feel_ like puking. Not actually puking."

And then the mechanical evil laughter rang out.

* * *

"So..." Janice sighed.

"Yeah..." Quinn sighed with her.

"We told authorities, at least. Right?"

"Yeah... After the cage surrounded everyone in the gym and negated all our powers with the neoBrotherhood standing guard and occasionally laughing at us all imprisoned in a _wooden cage_. Boomer is still really loud, though, even without his sonic boom."

"And Medulla's head is still really really big."

"You could fit a baby in that head, man. Maybe even two."

"Don't think I haven't thought of testing that."

"That is... mildly disturbing. And now I can't stop thinking about trying it."

They both spent a few moments contemplating how it could be done.

"Hey, how come you aren't leaving me to freak out with your date about our forced imprisonment?"

"Who?"

"Betsy. The girl you came to the dance with? And slow danced with? I mean, I slow danced with her too, but I should just stop talking now."

"She's talking with Rachel."

"Psycho bitch who messed with Em's head? She need me to put some hurt on her or something? I will, I swear."

"No, no, they're talking. Not catfighting. Trust me, I would be over there if there was a catfight."

"Pig."

".... Do you think we get bathroom breaks?"

**AN**: Oh my, who is the cause of that mysterious ticking noise and the imprisonment of the rest of the student body?


	18. Oh My

"Oh great, first the jailbreak and now this glowing thing with evil laughter? Man, it's just not a good year." Zach groaned. I couldn't tell whether he was glowing or if the glowing around us was just affecting him the most out of the group because he was wearing all white and neon yellow.

"Your overwhelming intelligence is astounding, Einstein." I rolled my eyes, "Wait. What jail break?"

"It was all over the news tonight." Will explained, "They don't have a complete list of all the convicts, but there was a massive jailbreak. Complete chaos." He did a low whistle to emphasize how massive of a jailbreak it was.

And the laughter was still continuing.

"This evil laughter going on? Don't they need to breathe, or is this just a tape recording meant to make us go crazy homicidal on each other? Cause it's working." Magenta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms with attitude.

"Hey, I'd recognize that animatronic laughter anywhere." Will said, staring off into what he thought was the direction of the laughter. And he was wrong, of course. _I _was staring off into what the right direction was, "Royal Pain!"

"Yes," The voice said, cutting off the evil laughter which proved it wasn't a tape recording but Darth Vader's love child, "It is I, Royal Pain! Here to put an end to your life, Will Stronghold! And your little sidekicks, too!"

"Wait!" I exclaimed, "Who's putting an end to what! I've never even met your psycho ass! Why do you want to kill me!?"

"Drat. It says there are seven life forms in the forcefield. Well, it's your own fault for having physical contact with one of them while they were being teleported. I am a villain. I have no regrets." The laughter once again started up.

"You bitch! I laugh at your attempts of evil laughter!"

Warren sighed and put a hand over my mouth to prevent me from saying anything else that I really really wanted to but would probably lead to a messy death of us.

"Don't make her angry, Perkins. I know you're not that stupid."

"So you're Royal Pain..." Zach said slowly, "But... You're in jail."

"Obviously not, sidekick." Pain snarled.

"How did you all get out? They negate your powers in prison." Will asked, his eyes still honing in on what he thought was the location of Royal Pain and standing in front of the group protectively. Warren stood right beside him, blocking me from the direction of what they thought was the laughter. He was too manly for Will's protection.

"Do you _honestly _think a power inhibiting collar could work on a technopath, Stronghold? I shorted it out seconds before it touched me. No one noticed; I kept the green light on."

"And so you were doing... What exactly the past year?"

Warren was blocking my view of what was going on, refusing to budge from in front of me no matter how much I pushed at him.

"Planning, of course. I couldn't just walk out of the jail cell." She scoffed.

"So you waited until a jail break?"

"I think she _was _the jail break, Zach." Layla responded.

"The treehugger has brains." The word 'treehugger' rolled out of her mouth as an insult. A difficult feat with a Darth Vader microphone.

"Wow, she's even bitchier than you described." I whispered loudly to Magenta from behind Warren.

"You have no idea." She whispered back.

"You've recruited _another_ freak, have you Will? As if your sorry mess of sidekicks and losers weren't enough." I could hear the sneer in her metallic voice "So what's your name, freak?"

Warren growled and waves of heat rolled off of him.

"Actually, my name _is _freak. Are you psychic along with criminally insane?" I grinned cheerily at my wittiness and Warren stiffened, as if to say, 'if we get out of here alive, you're dead for egging on the crazy.'

"Fitting. You're as outspoken and idiotic as your purple friend. Only I bet your powers are a little more useless."

"Magenta's powers aren't useless!" Zach yelled out, "She could scratch your eyes out, man."

"If only her hamster form were a bit taller." Royal Pain sneered, "She might be able to reach my ankle."

"Guinea pig." Magenta said sharply.

"Like I care. So, if we've finished talking, I think it's time to leave you to your inevitable deaths."

"By turning us into babies? I bet I'll be adorable." I grinned.

"Emily... Shut up." Will said quietly as I glared at him.

"Yes, do shut up. It's interfering with my plans to rid myself with this school once and for all. See, my flaw before was not double checking that every single useless lifeform in this school was accounted for and imprisoned. I knew your group of losers would slip out unnoticed if I tried to capture you all as a whole, so I made sure to keep you locked up with no hope for escape before I captured the rest of the losers."

"And what's your plan this time? Because the whole raising baby villains didn't exactly work out so well." Will asked.

"They impounded my creation, those bastards. But that's not a problem, seeing as even if you were brainwashed into evil I still wouldn't be able to stand the sight of you. All of you, for that matter. So I just decided to leave you all here to die."

"... Yay?"


	19. Finally, We're Getting Somewhere

"I am not being starved to death." Zach declared, his glow brightening considerably in his panic.

"Me neither! I'm going to see if I can get out." Ethan pushed up his glasses before melting and attempting to thin himself out as much as possible. I grimaced as a bit of him touched my shoe.

A burst of light erupted as soon as his liquified being tried to get out underneath the cracks and he turned back quickly with a yelp, clutching his burnt arm in pain.

"Ethan!" The group surrounded him and Layla ripped the sleeve from his arm, where it looked like part of his arm _dissolved_ when he was in liquid form. I quickly ruffled through my handbag and tossed Layla a waterbottle that she poured onto his arm. Everyone winced at the steam that came off.

Layla looked at everyone in helplessness before focusing her eyes on me.

"You made water boil a couple days ago." She said slowly.

"No, I didn't. How is this helping the burnt meltsicle?" I snapped, brushing back nonexistent hair from his forehead and looking at him worriedly.

"Yes, you did. I remember. Everything was overheating until someone spoke to you and you snapped out of whatever trance you were in before. It means you don't just control fire. You control heat."

"But I don't heal burns! I cause them!" I rubbed my eyes, not even bothering trying to defend what I did subconsciously.

"Just try it." Will reasoned, "The burn looks bad, and none of us are doctors."

"It won't work." I sighed before hovering my hand over Ethan's burn. I could feel the heat simmering below the surface, cooking his arm, and winced.

Warren put his hand on my shoulder, offering silent support, and I closed my eyes in concentration despite not knowing what the hell I was going to do. It's not as if I could just grab at the heat and make it go away.

"I see one of you've tried to escape already. How did that work out for you? I do hope it wasn't Warren Peace, that would ruin my fun."

The hothead in question growled and attempted to leap out of the forcefield, only expecting to get a little singed. Instead, it was like the forcefield was _solid_, as most forcefields are, and his fireproof jacket began to smoke as he pressed up against it. He yelled in frustration and his fist burst into flames, banging against it in his fury.

"Dude, stop it! You're burning up all the air!" Zach coughed, wiping some sweat from his forehead.

"We have limited air?" Will asked, gulping. He stood up and started punching the wall with all his strength, hoping to crack it.

"Hitting it won't work, Stronghold." Gwen's taunting voice said from outside. I could practically _hear _her smile, "It took months of planning, but it's indestructible. And your little human lighter wouldn't _dare _try and burn his way out of such a small place. He wouldn't want to burn his friends even more, would he? It's not fun escaping if you kill all your friends in the process."

That little bitch.

"Ta ta, I have things that need to be destroyed. Try not to hurt—Wait, never mind. I don't care. I'll be sure to check if you're dead in a week or two."

"Emily, is it working?" I looked at Magenta with panic in my eyes.

"I don't know what I have to do! I can feel the heat, but it's not like putting out a fire. I can't just kill it. I can either shut it off and risk stopping the bloodflow, or... I don't know..." I choked down a sob, "We're not going to make it, are we?"

"Don't think like that." Layla chastised.

"Where the heck is the rest of the school?" Magenta snapped.

"Probably locked somewhere, courtesy of Royal Pain. God, what a fitting name." I sighed.

"If only there were some superheroes outside that would hear our call." Zach said, staring sadly at the sweating and shaky Ethan.

"Hey, whatever happened to all the things we've accomplished by working together? We can beat Gwen again." Will grinned cheerily.

"Are you high on something?" I asked, on the verge of hysterics, "Last year you all weren't targeted by the insane technological genius, you were just sideshows who went by undetected while she went after what she considered the bigger fish. Now we _are_ the bigger fish! No, _you _guys are the bigger fish, and I'm trapped for being just in your _company_!"

"Emily!" If it weren't for the fact that Warren just used my _name _and not Blue, or Weirdo, or Spaz, I probably would've kept ranting. After the few seconds of shock I probably would've started all over again and added a few more references towards my increasing hallucinations that have only been vaguely mentioned in the story thus far, but then he put his hands on either side of my face and looked into my eyes with his own chocolate orbs of Godliness, and slammed his lips on mine.

"Relax," He said after a few seconds, his breath tickling my face. I didn't notice this before when I was hypnotized into being his girlfriend, but he smelled wonderful. Like burnt toban djan in leather..... That didn't sound right... "We can't have you go crazy before we even think of an escape plan."

I nodded, focusing on the steam coming from his fingertips and not thoughts of our impending doom.

And then I had a mental epiphany, meaning I wouldn't be able to have another for a few months, but it was worth it considering the circumstances.

"Royal Pain said that she designed it to keep in everyone, and she implied that it was possible to melt it with fire." I said slowly.

"Only that if I do, I'll end up killing everyone." He trailed off, understanding my trail of thought.

"But that's because when you do powerful fires, it spreads up your arms like wildfire and you can't control it."

"And she doesn't know that you're a pyrokinetic."

"Yeah, she thinks my power is worthless. Like hot-dog vision or something."

"Man, I wouldn't mind a hot dog right now." Zach sighed.

"Not helping." Magenta snapped.

"But we don't know how much air there is." Layla protested.

"We could burn a hole in the roof." Ethan shrugged breathlesssly, gritting his teeth from the pain. Poor thing.

"You could fly up to the roof," I suggested to Will, "And go all Superman on it's ass."

"But the roof could fall on your heads." Will protested also.

"The forcefield isn't burning through the roof, otherwise a circle of death would've already fallen on us." Magenta pointed out.

"It's singeing the floor around us, but hasn't burned through it completely. Maybe she programed it so it only burns people."

"Or maybe it only extends so far and I can fly everyone out of here." Will said, flying up and slowly lifting up a circle of roof. I couldn't see what was happening, though, seeing as it was super high, so I had to wait until he floated down, carrying a chunk of the ceiling above his head.

"So?" Magenta asked.

"As soon as I broke the ceiling the forcefield just extended up for what looked like forever."

"But we've got more air, now." I nodded to myself, "Layla, how bad is it if a burn victim is exposed to heat?"

"If we stay in here, we're all dead. But if we get out, than we can heal his burns." Layla answered slowly, not answering my question, looking at her friend in distress.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." He winced.

"Okay. Hothead, give me a spark and I'll concentrate the shit out of it."

Warren snapped his fingers.

AN: so, chapter eighteen of the sequel and there's a brief first kiss that's quickly shoved aside for the sake of saving all their lives. when I deliver, I deliver, right?


	20. In Which Asses Are Kicked Hard

And so, with the fire quickly in my hands, I directed it over to where one of the evil hovering things that made up the forcefield was, letting the fire grow and then compressing it together, repeating that process over and over, the fire getting hotter and hotter as this sentence droned on and on, but still small enough to not burn anyone. Warren and I were hardly affected by the difference in the temperature, but already sweat was dripping down Will's nose, which was really disgusting since when it hit the floor it made a loud splash, and since he was hovering a few yards above us he could drip sweat on me at any second.

I cringed in horror.

"Is it working?" Warren asked, leaning against the wall boredly with his part in the plan already being over.

"Yeah." I breathed out. Already I could feel the fire going through about three inches, even though if I looked at it directly it would be like staring up at the sun. As in if I looked at it to double check I would be very very stupid.

"Finally." Magenta exhaled, hugging Zach to her before going back to comforting Ethan with Layla.

"Okay, I haven't burned through the light thing enough to get to the technological whatsit, but I think a few more centimeters and I'll short out the whole thing."

"Are you sure it works like that?" Layla frowned.

"Will, if I know anything about technology, is that if you melt one thing then the whole thing collapses. Especially since this one had that weird doohicky sticking out of it while the others were just tiny spheres."

"I don't want to know what experiences led you to that conclusion." Will sighed.

"I do." Warren grinned, occasionally adding extra sparks that I pushed into the little ball of fire we were using. It was white hot, now, and all of us had to turn our heads away. I missed welding. Maybe I should take a metals class next year.

"A lot of years ago when I was trigger happy." I smiled reminiscently, "I killed so much shit with Jaws."

"Jaws? Like you bit stuff?" Zach 'whoa'd in respect.

"The name of my zippo lighter. Ooh, one time I was at this once big mansion house and managed to sneak away from all the old farts and I found this big fancy white hallway with a big metal dome room thing and wreaked havoc on _everything. _Especially the branding. They had X's on everything, even their helmets had weird cords that shaped into X's, but I made them all into pretty little butterflies." I sighed, "I was such a little artist back then."

Warren snorted.

"And this snarly guy completely overreacted. I mean, yeah, I shorted out all the power and the sprinklers tried to attack everyone and the bald guy in the wheelchair kept giving me these really annoying long lectures about respecting other people's property," I gave a small laugh, "But I mean, dude, who doesn't want to destroy rich things? I mean, if someone has enough money to have their own _logo_, then that means you're rich, right?"

"A bald guy in a wheelchair? In a big mansion? With X's?" Ethan asked in wonder.

"Yeah, why?"

"You were in the Institute! With cerebro! You broke cerebro!" He exclaimed, before clutching his arm in pain from the sudden movement of his yelling.

"I broke what? In a mental asylum? And don't move so much, meltsicle, you'll hurt your arm more."

"She was in the X-Mansion? How did you get into Cerebro without clearance?" Will asked. "I heard that it's harder to get into than... Than the secret sanctum!"

"Not with fire on your side." I smiled fondly, remembering how no barrier used to be safe from my zippo lighter... The same one in my bag that I had yet to use. That I didn't want to use. Warren was good enough as a lighter and had a lot less mental baggage.

Then a large spark that I could see even when I had my head turned away, because I must have forgotten a welding mask at home, silly me, and the whole forcefield seemed to take one big heaving sigh... and disappeared. The remaining floating globes of doom clattered to the floor all dead and dull looking.

"That was... Easy." Will commented, throwing away the bit of ceiling he still carried.

"That's because this was only the first step." Magenta sighed, "Now we have to tend to Ethan. Where's a bathtub of water? Better yet, where's the closest hospital?"

"The exact location of the school is top secret. But I'm sure if I fly fast enough I can find one."

"But you were the one who defeated Royal Pain last time." Layla interjected.

"That's because before, the only non-pacifist supers who were capable of kicking ass were _babies_. And I doubt that a group of four amateurs is going to be able to take down everyone plus that Royal Pain, regardless of Superfist's presence." I snapped.

"Okay." Warren said, assuming the role of leader, "Will, take Ethan and get him to the hospital. Then get help and come back."

"Oh, call the X-Men." I said excitedly.

"Why not just my parents?" Will asked, already scooping Ethan into his arms.

"Because she already knows their strengths and weaknesses, you can do everything they can so their presence would be pointless regardless, and the X-Men are a coordinated group of superheroes with a wide variety of powers and a mastery in all combat. And because Wanda says they usually travel by supercool sleek jets."

"Well that tops whatever super mini-van your parents have." Magenta shrugged.

I dug into my purse and pulled out my blue cell.

"Here, use my phone. I put them under the name 'super stiffs'. This guy with a stick up his ass'll answer, so says John. Call him Cyclops." I handed it to him and flew off into the night.

As in we ran like hell from the cafeteria to the gym, where everything bad happens.

"Hey, we should probably wait until the adults get here." I whispered, just as Warren was about to burst in heroically.

"Oh God, this is so _boring! _Just waiting around here for something to happen." We heard from inside.

"Especially with the Pain in the little villain's room."

"She's bleeding, I bet. She'll be there for ages."

"Ah, fuck her. We can take her down, anyway. Not like those pansies last year who actually looked up to her." The sex-filled voice of Jacques. Asshole.

"Hey! Who're you calling a pansy, asshole!?" The voice of Speed.

"Yeah, this is boring."

"Woo!" Someone yopped, "Let's start the killing! Starting with the tubby, then with that white haired pansy looking dude with the chicks clinging to him." Jacques' voice again.

"Screw authority!" I yell-whispered, bursting into the gym heroically, the sophomores following my lead. "There will be no killing, ass monkeys!"

That clued the neo-Brotherhood into our arrival, and the four students turned their evil eyes towards us.

The rest of the student body was... Contained... In a very claustrophobic manner.

It was like an earth prison. It was a twisting, dirt cage lined with twigs and deformed rocks. I could barely make out the white hair of Quinn, surrounded by Janice, Betty, and Rachel who was holding a shaking Betty in her arms. Betty didn't look that scared, though. She was glaring at all of the baddies.

There was a metal contraption, probably the real reason why they hadn't escaped yet. I could see Larry, who was obviously not a two-ton rock and breaking his way out already.

"Power negators." Magenta sighed.

"Okay," I said, "Frog powers, superstrength, sonic waves, and shaky powers."

"Brilliant deduction." Warren rolled his eyes, "Layla, do you only control living plants?" Warren asked, everyone ducking the sonic wave Jacques sent at us in unison.

I rolled to the left and kicked at the senior's leg, smirking as he stumbled down.

"Get the power negator already!" Someone from inside the cage yelled.

"Everyone back away from the bars!" Layla announced, before the green skinned boy hit her in the face with his green... Puke-like gunk. She fell down as she tried to peel the nasty thing off of her face.

Warren immediately threw a fireball at him, and he made this horribly amusing squeak as he fell, before quickly resuming dodging and throwing blows with the sonic boy. Jack... Jock... Jacques. Italian sounding last name... Yes, I was mentally not remembering his name because I was so pissed.

Big blond girl approaching me. Uh oh.

"You're the only one who didn't pass out on the first hit." She said in a Southern drawl, cracking her knuckles and grinning at me.

"That blunt object was your fist..." I said slowly, feeling the anger build up on me. "You knocked me out.. You gave me a concussion!"

"And people say _I'm _slow." She chuckled.

"If I weren't wary of your mannish strength and large frame, I would punch you right now." I ground out, keeping a safe distance from her.

"Don't bother. I'm unstoppable." My eyes narrowed at her arrogance. Only people I liked were allowed to act cocky!

"Well, I don't know about that. You know what they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. And you are really really big."

"I.. Am not.. Fat!"

Dukes snarled and ran forward, attempting to punch me. Luckily, I was able to duck and roll while she stumbled through the hit. I backed away a little, jumping on my feet, and maneuvered myself in front of the dirt cage.

"Wow, you expect to be taken seriously here when you can't even hit a twerp like me? No brains, no coordination—You're in my math class, right? You're two years older and in a freshman math class. And a slow class too!"

She roared, this time, instead of snarling and ran at me with one lumbering fist in the air. I rolled away seconds before impact and she barreled forward into the wooden cage.

Apparently, Warren had the same idea as me, because seconds later sonic waves attacked the dirt structure on the opposite side.

All the students rushed out immediately, enjoying their newly regained powers and stomping on the power negator, and their fallen captives.

And then, as if that wasn't enough, Layla had suddenly stood very still and all the dead twigs from the structure shot at her and attacked the hardened green mask until it cracked and fell off of her face.

"Thanks for the help." Layla said sarcastically.

"Hippie, is that sarcasm I hear?" I asked, shocked.

"I think the fact that _no one _helped me while I was being suffocated by solidified _spit_," Nice alliteration, "Calls for vast amounts of sarcasm."

"We were a little busy at the time." Magenta said dryly, from atop an unconscious Danny Petrakis.

"Yeah, and I forgot that Will wasn't here." Zach shrugged sheepishly.

"How the hell did you take _him _down?" I asked in wonder.

"I blinded him with my glow," I _knew _he was hazardous to the general public,_ "_and Magenta kicked his man bits and then went for his head like some hardcore ninja or something. _So _hot." Zach explained, sitting next to Magenta.

"Damn, I have to borrow those combat boots the next time I shop in the city." I breathed out, looking at the shoes of death in awe.

"This..." Came an angry animatronic voice from one of the entrances of the gym, "Is _not _how I pictured things. How the heck did you all escape!"

"Oh come on, you're easily in your late thirties. You can say hell." I teased, hugging Quinn to me.

"How _did _you get out of there?" Quinn murmured to me, his head still buried in my shoulder.

"Wait a second." I said, gently shoving him off of me, "Quinn, say 'Royal Pain, do not use your powers or any technology you already have'."

"Royal Pain," Quinn grinned, "Do not use your powers or any technology you might already have."

Royal Pain let out a stream of curses, her fingers inches away from the control pad on her arm.

"Quick! Before the authorities come!" Janice yelled, "Let's dogpile her!" She morphed into a particularly vicious breed of pit bull, charging at her full speed. Not surprisingly, the rest of the students soon followed in a barbaric fashion and Royal Pain shrieks were muffled by the amount of angry students trying to get at her.

"Bet she didn't count on _that _convenient power with her big comeback." I finger snapped and grinned at Quinn, "Your power rocks. It makes things so anticlimactic and simple."

"Isn't it sexy? Don't you just want to kiss me for it?" The word 'kiss' jogged memories I suppressed because of the fact that my life was in danger, and two immediate things happened. One, my face flushed to an almost painful shade of red, and two, my eyes zeroed in on Warren leaving the gym. I had Warren radar.

"I have to go run after Warren and make a fool of myself."

"Of course." Quinn sighed, "I'll go dance with a nameless girl and pretend that you weren't the only girl I knew I was willing to settle down for."

"That's the spirit, mate."

I clapped him on the back, not really paying attention to what he said, and started walking away quickly, managing to keep an eye on Warren even as he stalked away.

"Hey!" I yelled, running as fast as I could in peep-toe heels. And yet, instead of slowing down until I caught up like he usually did, he sped up noticeably. He was practically speed walking.

Oh, that is _it, _Mr. Temperamental-I-Think-I'll-Kiss-My-Blue-Haired-Friend-And-Then-Act-Like-Nothing-Happened-Until-Our-Lives-Are-Safe-So-I-Can-Run-Away! The heels are coming off!

Literally. It's impossible to run in these things.

I hopped on one foot a couple times to get them off, but when I did and Warren was disappearing just around the corner, I sprinted like I was in gym class and Boomer was yelling directly into my ear and I had to get as far away from him as possible. Only I was going _to _someone instead of _away._

"Hotshot, for God's sakes—Stop!" I grabbed his arm, finally in breathing distance, but he angrily shoved it off.

He stopped walking, at least. He was just steaming.

"What exactly did I do to make you so angry?" He was as moody and secretive as most guys thought girls were. Sheesh.

"Just—" He broke off, running a hand through his hair and facing me, "I'm not angry at you. Well, I am, a little bit, but it's my fault." He groaned, turning away again, "Stupid Stronghold _told _me you wouldn't wait around, and I was just as idiotic as he was last year with Layla-"

"Oh, yeah, Layla told me about how jerky and retarded..." I trailed off at his glare, before giving him an uneasy smile, "I mean keep telling me about how stupid you are, please."

"I waited too long and now you're going out with the albino." He sighed, collapsing into the lockers and making a racket as his back slid down and shook the padlocks.

"Albino? You mean _Quinn_?" I snorted and sat down, a little bit more gracefully, next to him.

"Yeah. You two were all over each other in there." He grumbled, clenching his fists.

"Aw, Sparky, were you jealous?" I grinned.

"I don't get jealous." He said, completely in denial about his emotions.

"Right. Don't worry, Quinn and me are just friends. Good friends, who I will hug as if he is my gay best friend, regardless of his sexual orientation. Especially when our lives were both in _danger. _Warren, are you completely dense?" I grinned as he glared at me, "I've been as flustered as a Southern Belle around you for _weeks,_ and I've been slapping Quinn around like a... Sporty thing that requires slapping and abuse. Did I slap _you _when you kissed me?"

"He kissed you?" He asked, ignoring everything else I've been saying. It's like he's grasping for straws.

"He tried to the first day of school," I admitted, narrowing my eyes, "I think Mr. Erick slapped him for me. But that reminds me that I should hurt him for that. Are you going to stop changing the subject?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Serenade me?" I grinned as he rolled his eyes.

"I don't sing."

"But your voice is so gosh darn pretty." I giggled, shoving him lightly on the arm, "Sing me underground love rock. Preferably in some dimly lit room with facial hair and black pants on."

"Black pants?"

"And a chain necklace. But no Ashlee Simpson. Or country. I can only stand angry country, like that one Carrie Underwood song with the frisky bleached tramp who likes Shania karaoke."

Warren shook his head.

"Why the hell would Ashlee Simpson be there?"

"I don't know. I saw screenshots from Undiscovered and you remind me of Steven Strait."

"You saw screenshots, but not the movie."

"That's how I decide if I want to see a movie. I see pictures from the film, and if I like how it looks, then I see it."

"And if it just came out?"

"Then other people drive me and buy me drinks."

"Mooch."

"They don't mind. Much." I smiled and leaned forward onto my hands, "And neither do you."

"Says who?"

"Says you. Because _you like_ me."

"Oh God, you're worse than Stronghold." He groaned and banged the back of his head on the lockers.

"And you _like _it." I grinned, considering tickling him and making baby noises, "Are you ticklish?"

"Don't even try it." He glared.

"Why shouldn't I?"

He rolled his eyes, "The _second _you get it into your head I like you, you turn into a monster."

"But I'm _your _monster, because you _like_ me." He put his arms around me suddenly, lifting me in front of him so we were facing each other, my legs dangling awkwardly to the side, "That was sudden." I blinked, inches away from his face. "Did you plan that, or was it just a spur of the moment thing?"

"Shut up for a minute."

You know how all those girls talk about those warm, fuzzy feelings they get when the boys of their dreams kiss them? How, even though they're just guys, and the girls are just girls, and how the two of them will probably break apart in a couple of years with messy tears and lots of hatred, their knees go weak and their skin tingles, and then when they actually _kiss _the boy, it's all warm and gooey?

It was all true, the stupid saps. Only there was steam coming off of his arms, so it was like kissing someone in a sauna. A very fit and manly sauna.

I tangled one hand in his hair while the other rested on his shoulder, not really giving a crap whether or not someone could walk down the hall at any moment. Unless I didn't have enough time to get off of his lap, since somehow I ended up on top of him, and straddling a guy in public is still awkward. But at the moment, all thoughts were far from my mind.

"Ahem." A familiar awkward cough rang from behind us.

I jinxed myself with my own thoughts. Thank you, mind.

"What do you want, Stronghold?" Warren asked, tightening his hold as he looked over my shoulder to glare at him. I fought down the blush of being seen in this particular... Situation... And twisted my head to glare at him, too.

"Um... They want to give us a medal for saving everyone's butts, and since you two were some of the main benefactors... Oh, Ethan's fine, by the way. It was a first degree burn, but there was a nice super at the hospital that treated him right away. His arm'll be in a bandage for a few weeks, and he has to ease up on the melting, but-"

"He's fine. We get it." Warren scowled. More steam was coming from his arms, but now it was more out of anger than anything else.

"I hate doing good deeds." I sighed, reluctantly standing and giving Warren a hand up. Then I shot Will another glare, "You ruin everything."


	21. A Personality Change

_"This is James Jenkins from Super News reporting to you, live, from Sky High high school for supers. Made by supers, for supers. Tonight, not only did we suffer a mass breakout of villains that we have yet to completely round up, but one of our most recent and disastrous of foes, Royal Pain, released an attack on the school during their valentine's dance and imprisoned the majority of the students in a cage like structure that annulled their powers. Some students, though now released, are still experiencing a weakness in their powers that is said to wear off in a few days._

_"How did these students escape such a hopeless disaster? Why, none other than our beloved son of the Commander and Jetstream, Will Stronghold. Him, followed by a group of his companions, rescued the school from this hostage situation that almost cost the world the heroes of the future. Ah, here comes somebody now! This girl, Emily Perkins, was one of the prized students who aided Stronghold in the rescuing of the school. The group allegedly stormed the gymnasium, where the other students were being held captive, took down the group of recently acquired villains who were, until tonight, students of Sky High. The villains were all children of previous Brotherhood of Mutants members, a terrorist group from the old days, lead by none other than the revered Magneto himself. The Brotherhood members were cleared of all crimes against humanity, but their immunity to their crimes are now being protested by the citizens after hearing of what their children have done tonight._

_"Two supers seem to be following her. Scarlet Witch and Pyro, these two were recently released from prison, but were already known to be jaded supers. Vigilantes, if you will. Though they were in the Brotherhood also, for a time, they quickly took up arms with the Xavier Institute, helping them from the shadows. Though the two are one of the more jaded couples in the Super world, they are far from hated. They appear to be walking with Perkins. Shall we ask for an interview? Ah, it seems as if I'm not the only one with that in mind."_

_The man followed after the trio quickly walking past them, with about a dozen reporters pursuing them_

_"Hey you! The antisocial looking one with the medal around your neck! May we have a word?"_

_"Scarlet Witch! Is it your standing with the Xavier Institute or your relations to the Brotherhood that lead you here today?"_

_"How are you two related with the blue haired girl?"_

_"Perkins! How is your relationship with Will Stronghold!?"_

_"How does it feel to be able to aid Stronghold in his second rescue of the school?"_

_"Are you particularly close to him?"_

_"Do you have a strong attraction to him?"_

_"No comment!" The Witch's hand raised and red light surrounded the reporters and pushed the majority of them against a row of lockers._

_"Fuck off, obnoxious bitches." Perkins snarled, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to hurt them in some way._

_A camera exploded in a red flash._

_"A-and back to you, Jenny."_

* * *

"I hate reporters." Magenta groaned, stabbing her school lunch quite viciously.

"I know, man. I mean, this one reporter was dogging me last night, and I was like, 'dude, back offa me before I open a can of pain onto your _face_! Yeah!'" Zach punched his fist and did some strange gangster facial expressions. It was a little embarrassing.

"Oh yeah, I saw that. You mean the interview where you gave a detailed reenactment of how you and Magenta took down one of the neo-brothers using your glow and her shoe?" Janice rolled her eyes while Zach huffed.

"I am getting a little tired of the constant onslaught of reporters." Ethan admitted, "Last year wasn't nearly as bad, was it?"

"It was an hour of dogging, at most, before they got an interview from Will and left us alone. Now it's like they're trying to find out our life stories." Layla sighed.

"Lucky you. I've been waiting for something like that to happen to me! How come you guys got to go along for the ride and not me?" Janice pouted. She needed a big break like that to jumpstart her acting career. "I'd be completely fine with saving the school if it meant being famous, you know."

"Wow, your priorities are a little whacked up." Quinn whistled before sighing, "Emily hasn't even shown up for school today. And she wouldn't talk to me over the weekend at all."

"Same here," Janice noted, "She was prolly cuddling up to the firebug, right? Am I right?" She teased, waggling her eyebrows.

Warren glared.

"Hah. No." Will announced for Warren, "She disappeared with those two supers right after the award ceremony. He hasn't heard from her since."

"Pyro and the Scarlet Witch? Do you think she can get me their autographs?" Ethan asked eagerly.

"Huh. I'm kinda worried about the little spaz now." Magenta commented idly.

"Yeah, we should go visit her after school. It must be pretty lonely there in her house with all those reporters crowding around." Layla said in a sympathetic fashion.

Everyone looked at Warren expectantly.

"Whatever."

And so they were off. After school, of course, since they were good little children who would never dream of cutting class. And only one of them could fly.

* * *

Layla rang the buzzer of the shabby apartment complex. It was really old fashioned. Apartment buzzers had never sounded so grated in her experience, except for in the movies. Now that she thought about it, the whole neighborhood that they were in seemed a little worse for wear. If she weren't a capable super, she'd feel a little wary walking around here, even with all of her friends.

"Emily? We're here to visit you. Hope we're not imposing or anything. The whole gang's here!" Layla said cheerfully into the speakerbox.

There was a pause before the speaker crackled on.

"Not int'rested. F'ckoff."

And silence.

Janice suddenly pushed Layla away roughly and pressed the talk button.

"Ems, are you drunk or tired?" She asked urgently, "Because if it's alcohol up there, I want in."

"Neither." She barked into the speakers, "Now get. Or I'll call the police."

"Come on. I bet you're going crazy holed up in there. Buzz us in or I'm getting Peace to melt the door."

"Try it. I've been working on my long-range powers."

"I'll have wonderbread rip the door of the hinges."

"I hate you all."

* * *

"You look.." Will started out as the door opened.

Emily glared at them.

"Not how I expected." He finished. He was thinking that she would be clad in pajamas or something, her hair in a big rat's next. The glare he expected. But instead she looked polished and put together, clad in a blue sundress and her hair brushed back into a ponytail.

"I'm just about to go out anyway. Don't make yourselves comfortable, I'm kicking you out in a minute anyway." She fixed her sunglasses and turned away from the group.

"That's a bit incredibly rude." Magenta commented, striding in the house anyway and sprawling herself out onto the sofa. Always a rebel.

She didn't respond but instead grabbed a big purse from her room and stared at them expectantly.

"Aren't you going to offer us some tea and biscuits?" Janice smiled teasingly, but her eyes were narrowed and calculating.

"Hell no. This is America. We're all rude as fuck, so I have no qualms in kicking you all out and going along my merry way."

And so she kicked all of them out but one vastly annoying tall schmexy hunk of a gorgeous thing who refused to budge no matter how much she pushed and pushed. Her righteous fury had managed to overpower the scrawny pale man who hung onto her like a leech, but this thing was like a rock.

"Get out before I kick you in the 'nads. It'll be painful and I'll laugh."

"I'm calling in a question."

"What?"

"One of the honest questions you promised me. In exchange for phone service."

"What? What are you—You bitch. I can't believe you're actually putting me up to that kind of shit."

"I am. Now answer me. Where have you been these past few days? And why are there suitcases lined up by the door?" A detail not noticed by the others.

"I don't see how either of those questions, and they are more than one question, concern you at all."

"Humor me."

"Hospital. Moving. Satisfied?"

"Hospital for who? Is that why you're moving?"

"You're wasting all your questions." She said slowly, her head tilted off to the side.

"Okay, no questions then. Just talk to me."

"Don't be a fucking Stronghold and get the fuck out already."

"I don't want to be a whiny sentimental dick, but the way you are right now I think I need to be."

"Oh really? And how am I?"

"Do you really need me to tell you how fucked up you seem? I wouldn't be surprised if you've been crying underneath those big sunglasses of yours.

"Fuck you, you stupid little-"

"Ems?" A stranger appeared in the doorway, Ethan's head underneath his hand, "These weirdos were all crowding around outside your door. Should I zap them like those reporters from the other day?"

She shouldered past Warren with a glare and opened the door all the way. The stranger let go of Ethan's head and the boy immediately scrambled away, hiding behind Will. Instead, the stranger looked around the apartment and glared at Warren. Because he, in fact, was not a stranger to Emily. And Warren did not like that at all.

"Nah, they're kids from my school. That Uncle Sam over there is the son of some big supers, too. Famous. Assault charges wouldn't be pretty."

"If he's famous he must be able to defend himself, right?"

"What, Mr. Summers didn't squash the thug outta you yet?" She snorted. Warren did not like her amusement with the stranger. It hinted at camraderie, as if him showing up at her doorstep wasn't enough.

"Hell no. You ready to go? I'll carry your bags."

"Who the fuck is he?" Warren inquired ever so politely.

"You sure I can't zap this one?" The guy growled menacingly. His spiked blond hair stood a little more on end then before, and electricity filled the air. Warren always gave as good as he got when it came to menacing auras, and smoke began to roll off of his arms.

"Down, boys." Emily rolled her eyes behind her shades, "Ray, meet Warren. Warren, meet Ray. Now everybody get out."

Warren frowned in a confused matter as the large group of people followed Emily downstairs, Ray heading the pack as if it were his place to be the closest to her. Warren quickly shuffled past him and the two shared a sneer.

And who the hell was he, anyway? Emily, despite being overwhelmingly talkative, reluctantly confessed to him that she had not had any friends whatsoever before coming to Sky High. So where the fuck did this guy come from? And he was a super, too.

Warren was going to get to the bottom of whatever happened after he had seen her last. Even if it caused him extreme mental discomfort.

author's note: Oh my, the plot continues on! Yeah, who knows when this edition in the saga of Emily is going to end.

The new characters that are soon to be introduced aren't OCs. They're OOCs from X-men. A blend of X-Men, since there are too many different versions of X-Men to have a set personality. Right now they're a mix of Evolution characters blended with some Ultimate and movieverse. So just sit back and enjoy the ride. I'll be sure not to have so many new characters that your heads start spinning.


	22. A Bit of Unraveling

"Does it really take you that long to walk down the stupid stai--Oh. They've multiplied."

Another tall attractive man whom Warren disliked immensely upon sight was leaning against a large black SUV parked outside of Emily's apartment. He was the complete opposite of Ray, with black locks around Warren's length and chiseled features paired with a tan that reminded Warren of those cheesy Mexican soap operas. Only slightly less cheesy. Warren hated to admit it, but the man seemed almost as cool as Warren was.

Damn. He had a leather jacket on, too.

"Fuck off and get in the car, DaCosta." Emily kicked at the man, effectively ruining the his lazy pose. She glared at him and the man let loose a long sigh, dragging it out until he walked over to the back of the SUV and popped open the trunk.

"You movin' away, baby?" Janice asked sadly.

"Houses, yes. Schools, not yet." Ray answered for her with a grunt, piling suitcases in the trunk. "We'll convince her eventually to get out of that floating deathtrap."

"Whatever." Magenta snarled, turning and walking away. Until Emily came groveling to her on both knees apologizing about her bitchfit, then Magenta was content with blowing up shit on the computer. Zach immediately followed, with Ethan following after Zach.

"Are you going to be in school tomorrow?" Quinn asked, his face serious for once. Emily gave a nod in response, sighing and crossing her arms.

"They only gave me a day off."

"For what?" Will let the curiosity get the better of him. Emily immediately squashed that curiosity with a glare.

"She'll talk when she's ready, Will." Layla reassured, smiling at Emily sympathetically. Emily did not appreciate the sympathetic smile at all. Nor did she appreciate Layla mothering her like that.

Luckily, Janice distracted her from tearing Layla a new one. A new one of what, however, remained a mystery.

"Even with your personality fuck, you know I love you, okay? Tell me when you want a girl talk. Or when you want to listen to some Girl Talk. I just downloaded every song in existence." Janice smiled and kissed the moody girl on the cheek, earning a reluctant man pat on the shoulder. Emily wasn't feeling all that affectionate.

And so everyone had left but Warren. Of course. They were waiting for him a block down, since they knew that Warren never spoke deep meaningful speakings in the presence of others.

Warren chose to bypass the whole deep and meaningful shit and instead tilted Emily's chin up, giving her a chaste kiss. They could hear Quinn cursing from a distance.

"I don't care how much shit you think your life is filled with right now, okay? I'm not letting go of you so easily." He hovered over her, careful not to stand too close to her that she might want to push him away, Emily quickly tilting her face up so he couldn't see behind the sunglasses.

She stayed quiet for a moment; the corners of her lips twitched so subtly that Warren didn't know whether she fighting down a smile or a frown. She wouldn't have any qualms about frowning at him, though, so Warren assumed that she was trying not to smile.

"Wanda and John are in the car."

"That's convenient. Popsicle wants an autograph." And the two attractive men wouldn't make a move on Emily in the presence of the trigger happy fire manipulator. Probably X-Mansion kids. They usually hated Sky High on principle. And rumor was that the Scarlet Witch and Pyro stayed there.

"I'll think about it." A side of her mouth quirked up the smallest amount and Warren grinned in return, placing another small kiss on her lips. He could make a habit out of that.

"You'll be in school tomorrow." It wasn't a question, or a demand. It was said in the manner one would say that the sky was blue or that falling off of a building hurt like a bitch.

And then he walked away to where their group of weirdos were eavesdropping around the corner.

Emily sighed.

She really hated him sometimes.

* * *

"I don't like that guy." Ray muttered.

"No one was expecting you to." Roberto DaCosta, the man whom Warren glared at on sight, patted Ray's arm quickly before he had time to shock him with his electric powers. "It's rare for you to like anyone."

"Especially you." Ray growled.

The two then argued for a bit, Ray's scowl getting deeper and deeper and Roberto's smile getting wider and wider. Whoever thought the two of them together in a locked car was anything remotely near logical needed to commit themselves immediately. Emily banged her head on the window until the two stopped and looked at her strangely.

"Good. You two shut up."

"Did you really have to threaten us with bodily harm? Your bodily harm, that is. It's not nice to force gentleman manners upon us." Roberto frowned.

"Your talking was giving me a headache."

"And to counter that, you gave yourself a concussion." Ray rolled his eyes.

"A means to an end." Emily rolled her eyes.

"What am I hearing about concussions and Emily?" Said John from the front seat in an eerily quiet voice. There was a swish and a click that signified that he was itching to burn something. Even Roberto, who when powered up looked like a fiery comet, looked a little nervous.

"What? You need to get your ears checked, old man." Ray forced a laugh.

"I like you, kid. Don't test my patience."

* * *

"Betsy!"

The girl groaned at whoever was disturbing her rest, untangling her fingers from bright red locks and making her way over to the door. The redhead curiously opened one eye, gazing at Betsy exit into the hallway and open the door to whoever was banging on the door like a maniac.

"Oh." Was all the response that Betsy gave when she opened the door, piquing the curiosity of the redhead even more.

The redhead felt around and found a familiar group of very annoying people. Minus a certain blue-haired individual. They felt agitated, to say the least. Desperate, too. The albino clung to Betsy quite desperately, and the redhead felt an urge to choke the poor boy until he was red.

The redhead decided to quit sensing them and do things the old fashioned way. She got up off of the couch and crept quietly over to the doorway, careful that her shadow was nowhere near their eyesight, along with any other part of her body and kept her ears perked.

"Not only was she in perfect health when we came to see her, which was pissy enough the way she completely ignored our existence over the weekend," Ranted the annoying purple one, "But when we came to see her she was some rude stuck up bitch."

"Much like yourself."

"Shove it, Albino."

"What are you asking of me?" Asked Betsy a little helplessly.

The Golden Boy shrugged, "We figured you might be able to provide some insight on the situation."

The redhead could feel Betsy's growing annoyance.

"If you want me to be the mediator, I'd be happy to. If you are asking me to invade her mind without her permission and then inform you about information she has attempted to keep private, then I'll have to ask you to leave. Now." Betsy warned, using her cold and authoritative voice usually reserved for evildoers. The redhead got chills.

"See? I told you she wouldn't do it. Because it's wrong." The redhead could hear the condemnation in the shapeshifter's voice.

"You're right. I'm just worried about her. She didn't seem right."

The redhead rolled her eyes. When was the blue-haired firephobe ever right in the head? She reached out experimentally, tracking down Perkins, almost reaching her limits but thankful that Perkins was still in range. The girl was agitated. From the way her puppy dogs were talking, the redhead wasn't the least bit surprised. She decided to delve a little deeper. Her code of ethics weren't nearly as noble as Betsy's. A poor attempt at hating the world. She expected that a bit. Hoped for some humorous emotion instead.

She furrowed her eyebrows and concentrated in order to delve a little deeper.

little bit of aggression, a need to lash out and make others hurt. Hurt until they were lying on the floor begging her to rip their heart out because of the overwhelming pain. And then a very contradictory need to protect everyone from feeling that pain. To make sure no one ever gets hurt again.

She went even deeper.

The redhead gasped at the pain she felt. She held a hand up to her mouth and choked on a sob.

Agony. Her heart was drying out from all the tears it felt like shedding. Her heart hurt so much.

"Rachel?! What's happening?" Betsy tore away from her friends at the sound of Rachel's sob and the thick feeling of grief in the air. She knelt down by the redhead in the doorway and pushed away strands of hair that fell into the trembling girl's face.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Her heart.." Rachel gripped the hand Betsy was using to stroke her hair and held it to her chest, hoping somehow that Betsy's hand would make her heart ache less. Betsy's eyes narrowed.

"Emily's?"

Rachel stayed silent.

"Your curiosity is going to kill you one day."

Rachel sighed.

"I always knew she had problems. But now she's probably going to collapse from the weight of it all. You." She pointed at the fire wielder. Too tired to remember his name, "Go sex her up at the hospital a couple blocks down. She needs to lose herself in something other than grief. Fucking masochistic bitch probably bathes in the shit. I haven't felt that much grief in years. The rest of you idiots leave her alone or I'll mind fuck you all into a coma. And I'll make sure you don't enjoy a bit of it."

"You're protecting her for once?" Betsy asked, surprised. The gang of do-gooders had left already, wary of her mind fucking. Warren was leading the pack, probably heading straight where she told him to go. He was really quite trusting. Rachel should've lied, just to teach him a lesson.

"Before I thought she was some selfish bitch who was too revolved around her own pain to notice others."

"And now?"

"She cares too much about other people's pain to fix her own." Rachel tilted her head, "Reminds me of you and all those ruddy public-serving X-Dweebs."

"Your blood is filled to the brim with X-Men morality. You just haven't accepted that yet." Betsy always had a way of saying things with such certainty that Rachel could never bring up the courage to contradict her. To prevent an emofest from erupting in Betsy's living room, Rachel chose to stay silent. Betsy could hear her confliction, though. And Rachel knew it.

author's note: so this is a quick update. is my writing not clear enough? I'm experimenting a bit with my writing style and if things are even more vague than I intended them to be, I apologize. Send me a message and I'll clear up any confusion you might have. I won't tell you why Emily's so sad, though. You're free to guess, but I won't say anything about it that isn't cryptic.


	23. Surrounded by Walking Sex

"Any change in his condition?" Wanda asked the doctor expectantly, tapping her fingernails against her hip.

"No. None of the medication is having any affect on Mr. Perkins. The best we can do now is just wait."

"All we've been doing is waiting." Wanda sighed impatiently, " Why have we bothered to hire all these experts when none of you can do a damn thing?"

"We can't cure everything, Mrs. Allerdyce. Especially something he's been living with for so long. Any drastic measures would kill him rather than save him."

I ignored the rest of their conversation and slipped into the hospital room, Ray and Roberto following. It hurt, seeing him so cold like this. I smiled anyway, though, just in case he could see me.

"Hey, Mark. Brought these losers with me again." I rifled through my bag and took out a knit cap, "I made you something to keep your head warm."

"Because everyone knows hospitals are cold and unfeeling." Roberto elaborated, opening up the blinds on the windows and letting sun shine in. He sighed happily, refreshed. "Much better."

"I stayed home today to finish it, though. Don't be mad. I got permission from the school. Not for the hat, of course. Law states that I must live with an adult unless I emancipate myself, so I'm staying in one of the dorms at the X-Mansion until you can come back." I felt my nails dig into my skin. It kind of hurt, but I couldn't relax. So I dealt with the pain, "Neighbor lady is still a little shaken up. Nearly strangles me with hugs whenever she sees me. It wasn't nice, the way you kept your condition from her like that. Scared the shit out of her when you collapsed. Guess it's partly my fault too. I mean, any loving parent who hears of his daughter's imminent danger would have a bit of a shock. And you're pretty old, you know?"

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Ray. The thug was a little comforting when he wasn't being an ass.

"Wake up soon, old man. You're not my teacher anymore, but you still promised to teach me a bunch of illegal shit involving electricity."

"Yeah, Berzerker needs more tips on breaking the law." Roberto rolled his eyes.

"It's not like it'd do you any good. I can tell you have no subtlety. Or patience."

"She cracks a joke!" Roberto exclaimed, throwing his arms around me. I gave him a sharp punch in the gut.

"We didn't know you were capable of it."

"You've known me what, two days?"

"Four."

"Ah."

* * *

"Dude." Zach said as soon as they were around the block. Magenta rolled her eyes. Will noted to Layla that the two of them and Betsy were almost neighbors. The cheery suburban neighborhood was pretty big, and Betsy was only a few streets away.

"What?" Will asked.

"That was Rachel Summers. In Betsy's house." Zach responded, "With bedhead. I thought that Betsy was supposed to hate Rachel Summers. We're all supposed to hate her."

"Well you know what they say about Betsy." Janice trailed off, throwing Zach mysterious eyes.

"What? What?"

Hook, line, and sinker.

"They say that that Betsy," She slowly morphed into an old crooked man and looked up at Zach with a beady eye, "They say that chick's one of them _weirdos_."

Quinn laughed so hard he choked on his spit.

"It's none of our business who Betsy chooses to spend her spare time with." Layla, always the true north that their moral compass strived towards.

"How much weird shit are we going to have to put up with today? Next the checkerboard over there," A dismissive hand gesture towards Quinn, "will be admitting that he's been gay for Stronghold this whole time and has only been using Emily to get closer to him."

"Nah, I like 'em weird and nerdy. I'd be gay for Ethan. Completely."

Ethan edged away subtly.

"How's Emily weird and nerdy then?" Will frowned in a confused matter, not insulted at all that Quinn wasn't gay for him, "Well, nerdy. Not weird. I already know the weird part."

"She has encyclopedias." Quinn looked at Will, his eyes wide and disappearing into his hair, "_In her head._"

"She's maintaining a C to B average, and shoves as much on Ethan as she can get away with."

"What? I'm being used!?"

Magenta rolled her eyes, "I doubt she has encyclopedias in her head."

"Because she knows everything that's not related to school at all." Janice explained, "She has this obsession with cartoon characters. One a couple of trivias over fat balding men in the basements of their mothers. And she knows everything about clothes. She made this hat for me." She pointed to her beanie, "For seven dollars. And this bag," She pointed to her hobo bag, "for sixteen."

"And she let me watch her make this leather cuff," Quinn raised his wrist and pointed to a fairly professional looking leather man cuff, complete with snaps and pyramid studs, "She hammered it and everything! I felt honored."

"How much did she charge you?" Janice snorted.

"Thirty. She said she charged extra cause I looked weird when she was doing hard labor. She also pierced my ear." He pointed to his cartilage. There were so many piercings, but they could distinguish Emily's by the bright blue earring among the sea of silver.

"What is this, a commercial for Emily? Are we gonna market her off now?" Magenta rolled her eyes.

"That bag looks pretty cool." Layla noted. "You'll think she'll make me one, too?"

"As long as she gets money, yeah."

None of them were surprised at the condition.

* * *

"No dying allowed, got it?" I pressed a kiss on Mark's forehead and readied myself to leave for the day with the two dunderheads arguing all the time.

However, I was confronted with six plus feet of tanned sex. The sex lowered his sexy sunglasses to look at me with sexy crimson eyes.

"Hey, _petit. _Some _garcon _be wantin' yo' attention. _Il s'appelle _Peace or sometin' hippie like dat."

"Send him away, Mr. Gambit?"

"Little too late for dat. Y' want me to forcibly remove the man?"

I sighed.

"Whatever. I'll talk to him."

The man moved aside to make way for a slightly less taller but still sexy man.

"What are you doing here?" I asked rudely. I felt a little guilty, seeing as he did nothing at all. Well, he did _something. _My cheeks heated up at the casual kisses from earlier today.

"I'm friends with the woman who works at the check-in. She let me flip inconspicuously through the sign-in sheet." Stupid sign-in sheets. They required that you state who you were visiting so you wouldn't smother anyone in their sleep and walk away unnoticed.

Mr. Gambit rolled his eyes and ushered the two of us out of the room.

"Dis ain't no hangout place. Well, a good part o' de school is hangin' around here in our spare time, but dat irrelivant. Shoo."

"Vending machine?" Warren suggested, "My treat."

Oh, he knew how to woo a lady.


	24. A Talk and a Flashback

Disclaimer: I in no way own X-Men or Sky High or anything else that is copyrighted and written about in here. I especially had no part in the creation of the mighty push pops.

Using Warren's money, I had gotten a four course meal in snacks. I got a yogurt drink, a sandwich, Snickers, and a push pop. A _push pop_. This hospital was fancy.

There was a little garden outside the hospital. It was a pretty big garden, actually. Where the injured could stroll around to their leisure and speed up the healing process. The two of us sat on a stone bench in front of this little rosebush trimmed and constrained into a shape of a flamingo.

"So do you want to talk about what's wrong?" Warren asked while I devoured the push pop. He was munching on Sun Chips. Way to make a girl feel fat. Whatever.

"That's all? I thought that you had something important to say." I furrowed my brows in annoyance. Didn't mind the free food, though.

"I didn't say that. But you need somebody. That was your dad in there, right?" Warren shrugged.

"I've got somebody. I've got lots of somebodies that came from out of nowhere as soon as they heard and started offering shoulders to cry on. He was a teacher, did you know? People loved him. I've got so many somebodies that I don't even know all their names."

"But you didn't take any of the shoulders, right?"

"How's it any of your business who's shoulder I do or do not cry on?"

"I thought I was the guy you couldn't help spill your guts to. So unless you replaced me, you're just holding everything inside. That'll cause a tumor, you know."

"So I'll chop the tumor off and be done with it."

"I don't think it works like that."

"I don't think _you_ work like that!" I snapped.

He blinked a moment before laughing.

I didn't know what to say, seeing as Warren was not just _laughing_, which is a miracle all to itself, but laughing at _me_. So I pouted.

"I know you hate what's happening, but you can't change it. You can only deal with the shit that life has thrown at you."

"I don't wanna deal with anything." I huffed quickly before elaborating further, "I don't want to move out of my home, I don't want to hear whatever else the nurse has to say about his condition, and I don't want to see him and wonder why I can't even _recognize_ him anymore with that stupid disease eating away at him. I know what'll happen if he survives this. He'll just end back up here in a week, modern medicine stretching him out until he's this.. Husk of a human being who won't even remember my name anymore, much less be conscious enough to not remember me."

Warren offered his silent support.

"After his wife died," I said after awhile. Who knew _why _I was about to spill my guts _again, _but Warren probably had these pheremones that made you do stupid sappy shit like this, "Before he adopted me, he got Polio. Had a weakass immune system and traveled everywhere like some goddamn crocodile hunter or whatever.

"It left him crippled. Infected his spinal cord, all that jazz. He was already pretty old by then, although his health was freaky good. Scared the crap out of me when I first met him, but he... He made it this long, sans the hospital stays and portable lung machines. I used to think he was a robot and that he was recharging." I laughed, although the laughter just made Warren frown a bit.

"Now, though... They said that if he makes it through this particular episode," Another dry chuckle, "He'll only have a few months to live after that. Before, he was atleast going to make it to my graduation. See me set off into the adult world. But this is the first time he had a stroke, and that combined with the other crap in his health is too much. So I'm thinking; Why bother? He's only going to spend the last few weeks on a morphine drip drugged beyond existence. He's so intent on fighting with his health to stick around and take care of me, but each fucking day that goes by it's like a bit of his spirit is being sucked away until he's just this unidentifiable wrinkly mess that I won't even be able to recognize anymore. How's that going to take care of me?"

His hand sought out the one that wasn't eating vending machine food and squeezed.

I lunged at him suddenly, my hand wrenching out of his grasp and push pop being thrown god knows where, and hugged him. He didn't react in the slightest at suddenly being tackled by over a hundred pounds of woman flesh, even though he fell back from the stone bench onto the grass from the force of it and his Sun Chips flew everywhere.

He didn't hug me back, per se. He was too manly for that. But one of his hands touched my shoulder in a slightly comforting gesture.

"The janitors are gonna hate us." I mumbled into his jacket.

"Fuck the custodians."

Yup. He knew the way to a girl's heart.

* * *

A Flashback to Older Times

_In high school, you could say he was popular. Elementals in his school were rare; not only were there a handful of elementals in the world, but all of them were recruited almost immediately by Charles Xavier into his Institute. His father was friends with the principal, though. He was practically born to go to Sky High. Be a superhero. Wear a shiny cape and save babies from burning buildings. Never mind that his power was to **start** fires. That he was born to destroy._

_So he grew into a Super. One of the best. That stupid Commander who was always toddling after him in school was trying, yes, sucking up to the press like the kiss ass he was. But the public liked mystery more than they did justice. The Commander was too plain. Too stupid.  
_

_Baron always was a better actor. After all, the public actually thought that he cared about them. That he wasn't just going along with his father's wishes until he got rid of him. They said his father died of natural causes. His father didn't have any enemies that weren't safely locked away, anyways. They didn't suspect that someone could slip a poison into his afternoon beer and cause a heart attack._ The public loved him too much to even suspect that he was at fau_lt.  
_

_He had heard rumors about Magneto and his band of loyal terrorists. Mutant supremacy._

_Baron was sick of saving people._

"_Hey, I know you. You're that guy who's always on the news with that Captain America shithead. Something Battle, right?" A man with piercings all over his face, a black mohawk, and a gang of equally unimaginative black-clad losers. They were Magneto's thoughtless puppies, after all. Not anyone special.  
_

"_Baron Battle." He said gruffly, crossing his arms._

"_Ooh, intimidating." The man scoffed, chuckling with his friends, "Did that school pick it out for you,__ or did you get to choose it yourself?"_

_Baron felt his anger build up, but kept quiet and didn't let the flames come forth. He just got here, he couldn't kill anyone yet. Couldn't burn them alive... Let the flames lick his skin..._

"_Careful, man. This one's like Pyro." A green-tinged man grinned despite his own warning, tilting his head in contemplation._

"_He's not that powerful. Upper class two. At most." A woman with tied back black hair informed them, as if she knew every detail about him in just a glance. It disgusted him._

"_Don't think you can know my strength." Baron sneered, his fingers twitching with the need to burn, burn, __**burn.**_

"_Man," The first man laughed, "The way he talks! It's like he thinks he's superior or something. Just like those school freaks. Thinking you're safe and hidden up in the air. We'd kill you all if we thought that you were __**worth **__something. And now you think you can act all tough and join with us? Magneto probably only recruited you to just add more numbers onto the front line that were killed in the last attack."_

"_Hey!" A woman walked up to them. A young woman, no older than eighteen, with short black hair and bright blue __eyes outlined with black and thick eyelashes._

_The men's tough composures almost crumbled when she arrived, fear evident in his eyes._

"_Yeah, Scarle__t Witch?"_

"_Do you all make it a habit to hassle the new recruits?" She asked, crossing leather clad arms and glaring, "Maybe I should have some fun, too. I always did wonder exactly how long someone's intestines could stretch out before they died."_

_A shiver ran down Baron's spine, exciting him. Peace was nothing like this woman. Cold blue eyes yet so __**passionate**_ _in her movements, her appearance--the fire in him itched to get out, to see those eyes light up in flames._

"_Got it, Scarlet." The green man nodded, hopping away with the others._

"_I didn't need your help." Baron ground out, fighting down another temptation this time. The need to stroke his injured pride.  
_

"_I know." She shrugged, "I was helping them, as stupid as those shits are. I know a class two that could kill them all with just a touch. I recognized that look on your face--I don't need anymore blood in this camp."_

_And she walked away, without another word._

_Baron had to have her._


	25. A Transition

We were walking back pretty calmly considering I had just squeezed the life out of him with my affection and angst. The garden was pretty. I had moved on to my candy bars by now and munched on it casually.

"So I'm leaving now." I explained to him, giving him some more insight to all the chaos that had been in my life these past few days, "To Xavier's mansion in New York. The guy came a few days ago and offered me a place to stay. That's where Wanda and John are staying, temporarily. As instructors."

"They teach? Children?"

"Yupperoo. John teaches American Literature and Wanda teaches German."

"That's... Interesting."

"Yeah. Thought they'd've taught some crazy shit like how to make a shiv out of a mirror and a pillowcase."

"I was thinking more like a combat class."

"Oh. That sounds reasonable. They'd have fun torturing kids like that."

"Emily!" A familiar voice yelled out from far away. Sounded like the hippie.

My eyes snapped up to see a whole horde of people to my right, near the entrance of the hospital. They rushed up to me and Warren and Layla, Quinn, and Janice tackled me in a hug.

I allowed the hug for a few seconds before I began to threaten them.

"I will punch whatever is nearest my fist if you all don't let go of me right now."

I was feeling a little claustrophobic. They all quickly jumped back.

"Why are you all here?" I asked curiously, frowning a bit.

"We ran into the aggressive blond man from your apartment with the power to generate electricity and in turn met with official X-Men." Ethan explained proudly. He was carrying an autograph book. It was very cheesy looking, with an orange back and a cover that was a collage of all these supers.

"They told us where they thought you ran off to." Magenta elaborated.

"And we couldn't leave you alone, no matter how much Warren told us to." A true hypocrite. Luckily, he's an attractive hypocrite. "So we brought cupcakes." Layla held up a large tupperware. At seeing the wary expression on my face, she rolled her eyes, "They're artificial ones from Safeway. I did not attempt to cook at all, so there is absolutely no nutritional value."

I nodded, satisfied, and accepted them with a thank you.

"So do you want to share anything?" Will asked innocently, but his eyes saying that he really didn't like not knowing every little secret about everyone's lives.

I rolled my eyes and nodded at Warren before munching on a cupcake and ignoring his brief and to-the-point explanation of all the shit he knew that went down. Which pretty much meant that he knew everything one who wasn't actually there experiencing it all could know.

"Aw, you poor baby." Janice cooed a few minutes later, kissing my cheek, "I bet it'll be horrible at the mansion, too, all those sweaty super men running around, shooting lasers at each other in those formfitting black unitards I've heard so much about. Especially with that Gambit I saw in there. Tall, lean, sexy.... And I heard their gym teacher likes walking around shirtless. And he's like, permanently young forever. Like our Art History teacher. Only he's big and hairy."

"That doesn't sound appealing." I pouted, "The big and hairy part."

"Correction. Broad and manly."

"Better."

"Not really." Warren snarled.

"Hey, it's not my fault the mansion is like a gathering of sex. No X-Man is not sexy. The girls, the guys, even the blue man with the tail is sexy." Janice argued.

"There's a blue man? With a tail?" My eyes widened.

"Hell yeah. My mom and I stayed there for a bit and it was _awesome_. Sexy men were _everywhere _lookin' all sexy and stuff_. _This one guy turned into metal! And he had a six pack! No, a twelve pack! A rippling metallic twelve pack!"

"Wow." Was collectively spoken by all the girls in the group. Even Zack's eyes bugged a bit at the impressiveness of the concept. A _twelve _pack.

"And there's this guy with angel wings! Big, white, fluffy angel wings. And he either wears these really baggy cut open shirts or walks around shirtless with his rippling six pack."

"Hey!" Ray yelled from afar, running to where the group was. I wonder if I'm a magnet for people. Just a little one. "Em, your parents are waiting in the car. Your mom is scary as shit when she's impatient."

"I thought Mark was...?" Janice frowned a bit.

"I'm adopted." I sighed, "But I found my biological parents. Or they found me. They were in jail, and now they're not, so yeah. Big happy tears and all."

Will looked at Warren in an extremely confused fashion. Warren shook him off, with a promise to explain his earlier confession of his father killing Emily's parents.

Ethan had a growing-epiphany face.

"Don't tell me that you're the son of Pyro and the Scarlet Witch!" Ethan pointed an accusing finger at me.

"Yeah. How did you get that brilliant theory?" I asked sarcastically. Ethan didn't understand sarcasm.

"Well, first the three of you were together on the news report, acting in a very hostile manner similar to each other, hinting at a bond of some sort." Great. So I'm genetically aggressive.

"And you look just like the Scarlet Witch." Zach cut in, not adding in the word _hot _so his girlfriend wouldn't beat him up.

"And it'd explain your powers."

"And your eye color is the same as Pyro's."

"And you swear as much as the two did in the first ten seconds we spoke to them upstairs."

Magenta sent Warren, who was quiet during the rattling of fun facts, a considering look.

"She told you already, didn't she?" Magenta smirked at the unsurprised and quiet Warren, "Not only are you her eye candy, you're her confidante too."

Ethan elbowed him teasingly.

Warren snarled.

Ethan almost melted. Not as in swooned; he almost melted from fear.

"Now that we're done explaining common sense, can we go now? Wanda's creative when it comes to torturing people." Ray glared impatiently at them. He did not enjoy outsiders coming in from nowhere and wasting his time. Emily should just dump the group and the stupid flying school and become one of them already.

"So that's where you get your violent imagination!" Janice exclaimed happily.

* * *

"I still can't believe they haven't managed to catch all the villains from the breakout." Zach shook his head, "I mean, we took those guys out like.. Wham! You know? And there are still like ten, fifteen villains running around everywhere."

"The prisoners who stayed behind are being considered for parole, though. The ones who didn't break out?" Will said, using inside information from his parents. Dork.

"At least the one that they _think _didn't break out." John, a.k.a. Pyro, rolled his eyes.

"My stupid brother has superspeed." Wanda elaborated at the quizzical glances her hubbie earned, "He was out and back in seconds during the mass chaos that was the jailbreak."

"Really? No one caught him?" Layla asked in interest.

"They were more focused on other things. The bastard ruined a stick of my lipstick writing me a message on the wall. Fucking sappy shit wasn't worth ruining my makeup." Wanda snorted.

"Loving vandalism?" Zach snorted, "Nice."

"And they moved up his parole because he was such a good little boy, blah blah." Ray rolled his eyes.

"Wait... If you're the daughter of the Scarlet Witch..." Ethan said slowly, building up momentum and finally thorwing an accusing finger in my direction, "You're the granddaughter of Magneto! The Master of Magnetism! Leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants!"

"Wow, do your friends ever _shut up_?" Ray snarled, "They're worse than the grade schoolers at the mansion."

"They're prolly smarter though, right? Right?" I elbowed him repeatedly until he waved away my hands with an annoyed frown.

"I wouldn't bet on it."

"You know," John started, clicking his lighter on and off and tilting his head to peer at us from his comfortable sofa, his comfortable woman laying on him. Wanda looked just as bored as he did.

The Dork Brigade had convinced them to let them see the mansion, and had convinced the staff to let them sleep over, too. As in Ethan grovelled. A sleepover at a boarding school. Luckily, my room was one of the spares with lots of empty bunk beds so I can stay up with them all night and giggle with them all. And so Ethan had also begged John and Wanda to sit down with them for a bit and let him bask in their glory. And so that meant Ray and Roberto tagged along, just because they could.

"When I was your age," I groaned. No good sentence ever started off like this. Old fart, "I only thought about sex, power, and rock and roll."

"Amen to that." Ray said.

Wanda punched John in the arm.

"And I also thought of my loved ones. One. Whatever."

"That's part of the sex category." I snorted.

My head was leaning against Warren's arm, which was allowed, since we were dating and all. His arm was comfy. At least, I _think_ we're dating. Which means couple-ey stuff is allowed. Like sharing couches together while Janice kicked Ethan, Zach, and Roberto's collective asses at Mario racecar games. And even when her character was Baby Peach.

Our brief conversation of the jail break was not what had brought upon John's reminiscing of his good old mindless youth. Instead, it had been the conversations before that about politics. Not the 'government is trying to overrun our lives and we must be purged from their oppressive mindsets and REBEL!' that Emily enjoyed having with either extreme conservatives or enthousiastic anarchists, but boring ones. Like old fat American families around barbecues wearing sundresses and polo shirts. Those kinds of political talks.

Thank all of the anti-patriotism in the room that that conversation was ended.

"I think it's nice, though," Janice smirked flirtingly and dragged her controller down Ethan's arm, invading his personal space, "I like smart guys."

"Well--I mean, you know, I--Yeah. You know." Poor Ethan. Doesn't stand a chance.

"Is that why you like smart guys?" I asked with an eyebrow raised. Here at the mansion Janice let loose her freakish appearance and laid back, sprawled across the couch with light blue skin and snow white hair, a leg tossed on Quinn's lap, a hand placed a little too close to Ethan for comfort, and her hair dangling down to her waist. "So you can see their IQ drop like those rides at amusement parks?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Janice shrugged, kissing Ethan on the cheek, "It's so adorable!"

Ethan melted. Not literally this time, he just sagged into Zach with metaphorical hearts in his eyes.

The normal people, in my opinion at least, rolled their eyes with disgust.

"Yeah. I'm going to go hang with the grown ups now. My mentality is dropping at an alarming rate." Wanda sighed, getting up and dragging a lazy Pyro with her.

I waved.

"Bye bye!" Janice smiled sickeningly sweet, showing up my little wave with her enthusiasm. Bitch.

As soon as the door had swung shut, Janice tossed the controller at Ray's head and leaped up. "Okay! Who's going to go streaking down the hallways? If I throw heads, it's gotta be one of the guys. Who's gotta coin I can use?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Warren sighed tiredly, looking up from his spaced out state that could have been considered napping if he weren't staring at the wall in sheer boredom the whole time. Maybe he sleeps with his eyes open.

"It's a sleepover. Haven't you ever seen movies of those chicks in their underwear throwing pillows at each other and then attacking the boys with sex?" Roberto asked incredulously. Quinn grinned at him excitedly before looking at Janice excitedly.

"Is that really going to happen!?" He asked, barely containing his joy.

Janice smirked evilly at him.

"Wouldn't you like to find out."

"This should have a name." I announced.

"What should?" Layla asked.

"This night. This night, which is apparently going to be a night of insanity, should have a name. Like a Night of Insanity!"

"Night High?" Ethan snorted at his own suggestion.

"Night of the Living Dead!" Zach roared.

"I'm perfectly fine with a Night of Not Dying." Will did that weird sheepish looking smile that he did where he sucked in his lips and puffed out his cheeks. Or got dimples. Or something.

"A Night of Tranquility."

"A Night of Boring is what you're getting at." Magenta sarcasmed, for a lack of a better word. For a lack of an existing word, was more like it.

"A Night of Mayhem." Warren sighed, the only one who hadn't put forth a suggestion so far.

"Ah! I knew I liked you for a reason!" I exclaimed, hugging his arm.

"Night of Mayhem it is."

Author's Note: Oh my. This has done a complete 180. So if any of you want to give me any requests for what you might want for their Night of Mayhem, feel free. I don't bite. Or, I mean, I can't. The internet can't tell your computer to bite you. Even though that would be the coolest virus in the _world._


	26. The Beginning of the Night of Mayhem!

Whispers.

Giggles.

A loud shush.

A giggle.

The sound of a loud slap.

And a loud sigh, coming from their subject. A buff subject, hairy, wearing a wife beater and dark pants. Shoeless. Sockless. A large claw extends, large and metallic, and stabs an apple viciously with it.

Some of us jump unwillingly.

"Good luck." Roberto whispers into my ear before pushing me into the kitchen and shutting the door.

More giggles are heard.

"Y'know, pipsqueak, the professor let them stay here for the night because you've got that emotional stuff going on with you. Having friends is therapeutic and shit like that." The hairy man turned to me and rose an eyebrow, "Do you really want to push it?"

"Hah. Funny. Hi. My name is Emily."

"Logan. _Mr. _Logan to a pipsqueak like you."

"Wolverine, right?"

"If you're gonna fight me, yeah."

"Um..." Noo thank you, Mr. Deadly Claws of Doom.

"So what're you here for? Root beers in the cupboard. Get me one too."

Okay, I guess I'm getting root beer.

I sat next to him, twisting open mine, wincing at the pain that the little ridges gave me. And it wasn't that good, either. I mean, it was good, but it was room temperature. Everyone knows that the worst drinks are room temperature. It's either chilled or scalding.

"The first time I met Iceman--Past the territorial introduction," Had no clue what he meant by that, so he elaborated for my benefit, "He chilled my hand. To the bone. Anyway, it was late. Couldn't sleep. The two of us sat in these two chairs. Drinking root beer. He blew in it and it was ice cold. And then Stryker stormed the mansion, stole all the kids, and him and the rest of us saved the world."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked nervously.

He gave me a look.

"When your folks got arrested, you stayed at the house for a year. One-Eye--You've met him before, he's the dad of the chick who fucked with your head--He was thinking of taking you in, too. But he could barely handle his one kid. Wife died. He was a complete wreck. And then Storm was gonna raise you. She's motherly as shit. If you're anything like your mother, you'd have hated being raised by her. And so Kitty said she couldn't have babies, John said that he trusted them, and after a year you were officially a Drake."

"Okay."

"I just thought a kid should always know their background. Your parents prolly didn't have time to tell you shit and you were too young to remember things right."

"Oh. Thank you Mr. Logan." Ah, now things are going to get awkward.

"Mr. Logan?"

"Yeah pipsqueak?"

"Is it illegal for a girl my age to be with someone eighteen or older?"

A moment of silence.

An eruption of giggles from behind the door.

"I thought that tough looking kid you brought over was around your age."

More giggles.

Kill me now.

"Gosh darn it!" I exclaimed cheesily, snapping my fingers, and ran out the door, leaving behind my root beer.

Logan sighed, taking a sip of his root beer and wishing it were real beer.

"Fucking kids."

"God, who's idea was it again? Find the nearest staff and ask them that stupid question? Fucking a, man, I'm going to kick somebody in the fucking throat. Bitches."

"Emily, you're blushing so much!" Layla laughed lightheartedly.

"Oh yeah. It was you." I said calmly. Hippie was evil underneath those righteous moral standards.

Die!

"Oh fuck!"

"Emily, stop struggling so much!"

"Shit! She elbowed me!"

"Suck it up and help hold her down!"

"Relax, Ems! It's Truth or Dare! Truth! Or! Dare!"

"Damn!"

"You bit me, bitch! I'm your best fucking friend and you fucking bit me! Bitch!"

"Frack! She bit me too! That's kinda hot."

Warren, kind of tired of hanging onto her arm boredly while the other guys were grabbing onto her while she was _his_ to touch, and not theirs, grabbed her around the waist and swooped her up into his arms. She went limp after a few fists to his back and instead just glared at Layla.

"Your time is coming, Tree Fucker." I threatened.

"I find that offensive!" Layla exclaimed.

"I find your face offensive!" I bit back.

"Real original." Magenta huffed.

"So is your mom in bed." I stuck my tongue out.

"Ooh baby." Janice laughed, "I want a slice of that action!"

This is why we are best friends.

* * *

"So. Whoever this bottle lands upon will be the next victim. The next victim of this merciless game of truth or dare. You can either pick truth, dare, or the sprint of shame! Strip down to one article of clothing and run wild through the hallways! Strip and _wreak _havoc! Streak! Get it!?" Janice laughed wildly.

Red Bull kills brain cells.

I spinned the bottle, being the last one to go and embarrass myself publicly, and watched as it spinned, and spinned, and spinned.

And landed on Janice herself.

"You reap what you laugh insanely at!" I exclaimed loudly, pointing at her obnoxiously.

"Fine, fine. Truth."

"Pansy."

"Bitch. Gimme the truth."

"Fine. Who do you like!?" I waggled my eyebrows cheesily and made a silly dance out of it while everybody groaned.

"Come oooonnn." Janice whined.

"What? Pansy."

"Bitch."

"Pansy."

"Bitch."

"Pansy bitch."

"Bitchin'... Bitch thing! I'm going streaking!"

"Oh. Okay then."

Some erupted into insane laughter.

Janice shapeshifted into a blank silhouette. Like something out of Garbage's Push It video.

"Dammit, she can protect her modesty!" Quinn pouted.

Janice threw a slipper at his head.

He dodged.

She threw another one.

He compared himself to George Bush.

We laughed.

Ha ha ha. Stupid former president. You got shoes thrown at your head.

Author's Note: So I'm going to try and put all the suggestions into the Night of Mayhem. Ones that won't boost the rating of the story. Actually, I have no idea what the rating for this story is. Something that tolerates my sailor mouth. The Night of Mayhem will probably be a bit long. But it's mindless fun, so that's okay.


	27. Tribal Krumping?

Around and round the bottle goes, where it stops nobody knows. I smacked my head to get the chanting out of my head.

Janice cackled evilly when it landed on me again.

"You rigged that!" I yelled loudly, leaping to my feet and pointing an accusing finger at her.

"You can't prove that!" She yelled right back, "Truth or dare!"

My eyes shifted.

"Truth."

Everyone groaned.

"Who's the pansy now, bitch!" Janice shouted, her voice mimicking Snakes on a Plane.

"Just ask your question!" I huffed.

"Who do you like?" This time Janice waggled her eyebrows.

"Is this a serious question?" I asked, looking to Warren and then back to Janice. Warren allowed himself an arrogant smirk.

"Someone that isn't your honey bear." Janice guffawed, "Someone original."

"You?"

"No lies, please. Even though it's believable, seeing how unbelievably sexy I am. But pick a dude."

Quinn looked very interested at my answer. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"I dunno." I shrugged, "Ray."

"What? Why?" Quinn pouted.

Ray sent Warren a smirk.

Warren glowered.

"Yeah, why? I'm way more attractive!" Roberto pouted.

"Yeah, tell us why you think I'm the shit." Ray grinned at me, giving me a playful punch on the arm.

"My sole purpose is not for the masturbation of your ego, asshole." I stuck my tongue out at him, too, "And let's move on now!" I clapped my hands together and spinned the bottle harshly.

It landed on Zach.

"Pick your form of torture, glow stick."

"Dare, man. Complete dare."

"Alright, then." Think, damn you, think, "Alright. They're watching a movie in the rec room, right Roberto?"

"Yeah. Hancock."

"Okay. Zach, I dare you to put a lampshade over your head, stand next to the television, and glow for all you're worth until they throw you out of the room."

"Dude, that's so completely done, man. Hand me a lampshade."

* * *

Zach had lasted about thirty seconds before he was thrown out. Literally. Some kid grabbed him by the shirt and _tossed _him out of the door.

"That was hilarious!" Ray laughed at Zach sprawled on the floor, the lamp shade still on his head. He was probably talking about the pain Zach was now in more than anything.

"For you, yeah. I think I dislocated something." Zach rubbed his arm sorely, "I can't move my arm."

Magenta knelt beside him, felt his arm, and popped it back in. Zach gave a very unmanly yelp.

"There." She said simply, "You're fixed."

"Thank you." Zach whimpered.

"Okay. That's all done. Let's go back to the bottle!" Janice clapped her hands excitedly and we all ran off to the room.

"Make it a super powerful spin!" I ordered him, grinning.

He tried to comply, and instead of spinning normally in place it went flying and hit Roberto in the chest.

"Does that count?" Zach asked nervously. Roberto didn't know whether to be pissed off or amused that he was just hit in the chest with a bottle. He would probably have a bruise tomorrow.

"Of course it does!" Quinn grinned, "Now get on with it!"

"Um, truth or dare, dude."

"Dare." Roberto shrugged.

"Okay, then. I dare you to..." He trailed off, "Um...."

Roberto laid back, crossing his arms behind his head and looking at Zach expectantly.

"Okay, um... Run down the hallway... Screaming."

"Done." He said with an easy smile.

"And when you see someone... you have to dance." Roberto's smile faded a bit.

"Dance _how_?"

"Like crazy tribal men with grass skirts and masks twice as big as their faces. Still screaming. You can improvise what you scream."

"And how long will I be running?"

"Until you reach the kitchen and back."

Janice laughed insanely, "Oh shit, does anyone have a video camera? There is no way I'm not getting this on tape!"

"I have my phone." Magenta fished out out her cell from her bag, waving it a little in Roberto's direction tauntingly. He glared back.

How quick we teenagers bond.

* * *

Oh my god that must have been so embarrassing.

Roberto did as Zach ordered and started running down the hall, albeit unenthusiastically, yelling a quiet 'aaahhhh'. Until he came across his first victim. It was a tall, bulky looking fellow who, when almost tackled by Roberto, covered himself completely in _metal. _That was pretty cool.

So then Roberto, who now started screaming some gibberish chanting thing like he was sacrificing the man to the volcano gods, started jumping around and krumping or _something _like that. And we got it all on tape.

He's actually kind of good at dancing. Minus the insanity, of course.

Everyone stayed clear of him after that, which was unfortunate. There were some people in the halls, but they all ducked into rooms when they saw him screaming down the halls. So it wasn't much fun after that. But it was funny as hell.

"That was the funniest fucking five minutes of my life." Magenta chuckled, showing Layla the video they took so they could giggle together.

"Yeah, yeah." Roberto rolled his eyes. "Lets just get back to the room so I can torture somebody."

"Will do." Janice smiled happily, skipping with me back to the room.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Flaming-Angel-1 for the suggestion! Hers was running down the street and dancing at cars, a fun little adventure that I'm going to try and make someone do in real life.

If anybody wants to give me other fun suggestions, feel free to drop a review or message me or anything, and I'll eventually put it into the story.


	28. The Proposition

The bottle spinned, Roberto's smirk too wide to trust, and landed mercilessly upon Layla. Poor, innocent Layla.

"Truth or dare, Red." Roberto's smirk turned into a charming smile and Layla smiled back at him. She's way too trusting for her own good.

"Dare." She said confidently.

"Great!" He clapped his hands together happily, "I dare you to give your boyfriend over there a lapdance!"

Will choked on whatever air he was breathing at that moment.

"Horny bastard." I muttered, elbowing him sharply in the side.

Layla's face turned as red as her hair. Well, actually, from the shade of her hair that was more orange than red, she turned _redder _than her hair. Why was she even a redhead anyway? Why not an orangehead?

"What? I can't do something like that! I mean, we haven't even—I mean—What?!"

Janice was laughing so hard she started to roll around on the floor, kicking Quinn every once in awhile. He didn't mind—he was laughing too hard to notice.

"Come on. It'll be good practice for you." Roberto chuckled.

"You..." Her eyes lit up in anger, an unnatural lighting up, and the potted plants started growing like crazy.

"Whoa, hippie, simmer down a bit. Nobody wants to die from being choked by _ferns. _It's a little humiliating." I said, moving slightly in front of Roberto so she would be distracted a bit from killing him, "Now, you can still run naked through the hallways, remember? Yeah? You can do that."

"That's even worse!" Layla exclaimed, blushing so much that her neck was red, too.

"I sympathize. Really. I do. Listen, I have a Girltalk song that's like, only a minute long. Just do a bellydancer jig until your time is up and you'll be fine!"

"But..." Layla leaned over and whispered into my ear, "I can't dance!"

"Shit you don't! You go to dances, right?" I whispered back.

"I only do slow songs with Will!" Our whispered conversation was conveniently covered up by Janice's obnoxious laughter.

"Oh my." I said at my normal volume before standing up, "Okay then! I am now imposing myself on Roberto's dare and will dance with Layla! For Will." I cringed.

Warren elbowed me sharply.

"What are you going to do?" He growled quietly.

"Help Layla do her sexy dance?" I offered meekly before growing some metaphorical balls and toughening up, "Listen, punk. I am a nice person. Some of the time. Like right now. I have been forced to do the lapdance dare before, and I was embarrassed as _shit, _but luckily I awoke my inner bellydancer and managed to look sexy as hell. In my opinion, of course."

"_Not _helping your case."

"But Layla's too white-picket-fence to have an inner bellydancer! I have to force it into her! So meh."

With that, I stood up and grabbed Layla's hand, forcing her to stand up, too.

"Wonderboy." I ordered, "Go sit in that chair over there. I'm going to plug my iPod in those conveniently placed speakers over there."

Will slowly went over to the chair, Warren's glare intensifying with every step he took.

He was dead.

"Okay. Before I start," I announced, plugging the iPod into the speakers, "I am not a lesbian. And the actions that I will now partake in will not compromise that statement in any way at all. I'm just saving the day. Like the superhero-in-the-making that I am."

Janice laughed so hard that she started coughing in between gasps of laughter.

The music started and I bowed to Layla, offering my hand which she reluctantly took. I then twisted her around and started dancing, forcing her to move, like a one sided version of the whorish dancing that chicks in clubs partake in. And school dances. And sometimes just randomly in public. She was like a stiff wooden puppet that I had to forcibly move before she started to relax a bit, sill avoiding Will's eyes that were staring at her in disbelief.

He was probably thinking something along the lines of, 'oh my noes! I have just discovered my sex drive! No longer will I be able to have the fluffy peck on the cheek relationship with my best friend turned girlfriend!'

The song ended.

Both Will's and Layla's faces were beet red.

My work was done.

"That wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be, right?" I asked Warren innocently as I sat back next to him, who reluctantly nodded. He put a possessive arm around me, though, which is pretty much the only time in history that he was the one who initiated the physical contact.

He was very warm. Like a sauna.

"Quinn, why oh why are you hugging the largest pillow in the world to yourself?" Janice snickered, tapping the albino with the red face on the nose.

"Serious, man?" Roberto asked with a laugh, "That was way too innocent for me. I would have preferred a little less clothing." He said with a leer towards Layla.

She rolled her eyes with a blush. Will looked a little ticked off, and gave Roberto a quick warning glare. As if Roberto would actually pay heed to that.

She spinned the bottle without a word, and it landed on Janice. One of the ones who laughed the loudest and offered no sympathy whatsoever to Layla. Magenta even patted Layla comfortingly on the back when she got the dare.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare, man." Janice said lazily, tired from all the laughing and lying down on her back, her foot using Quinn's shoulder as a resting spot.

"Give Roberto a lapdance."

"Thank you!" Roberto threw his hands into the air.

"I'm not finished." Layla gave a tiny little smile at Roberto with eyes that practically _glowed _with vengeance.

"Janice?"

"Yeah, babe?" Janice asked, not particularly caring about giving somebody a lapdance.

"Shapeshift into one of the men at the X-Mansion you were so excited about earlier."

"Serious?!" Janice exclaimed with a happy grin, "Oh damn this is gonna be funny as hell!"

"You're gonna give me nightmares! Oh god." Roberto groaned, his face in his hands.

"Gimme some Blaqk Audio, babe." Janice said to me, as I ran over to the iPod laughing like crazy. Bitter for Sweet was the longest Blaqk Audio song I had. It was... six minutes? Maybe longer?

I put it on play and ran eagerly back under Warren's arm, watching as Janice shoved a reluctant Roberto forcibly into the chair, smirking at him with a sexy look that she probably practiced in the mirror before transforming.

And transformed into a shirtless man with wings and curly blond hair. Fuck, it was an angel.

And funny as hell when the man's body started dancing like a girl, shimmying his hips and everything.

Roberto's eyes were wide with horror.

Janice spinned around and morphed again, still shirtless and with wings, but this time brunette with more angular features, his hair longer and straighter, but surprisingly with no facial hair, considering I had actually seen this person and he usually had some stubble resembling a goatee. He did, however, have red on black eyes and a sexy grin that Janice mimicked perfectly.

Her moves got a little more masculine, getting more and more in Roberto's personal bubbles, and with a few vulgar moves that I immediately looked away from to protect my virtue. It continued on in this fashion, since she was apparently content with what she now looked like, more demonic with her movements and badass looking as the song went on. Her hair got a slight wave to it, and her wings fluttered a bit as she started to resemble Queen of the Damned's Lestat more than anything.

Roberto still had a horrified look on his face, and couldn't close his eyes for the life of him.

The song ended and she morphed back into her female self, with her creamy blue skin and long white hair and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Gaaaay." She dragged out the word cutely, poking him on the nose as she so loves to do to people.

"Am not." Roberto pouted, shoving her away lightly and regaining his motor functions.

"You may not have the physical evidence," Janice warned, "But I knows them when I sees them. And you are sixty percent wanting to bang that sexy man that I created. And if we round that then that means you are gay."

"No, I don't. And I'm not. So there."

"Right. Of course."

"Wow, why don't we just stop right there and get on with the game?" Magenta rolled her eyes, "I am not breaking up a bitch fight."

"I am not gay!" Roberto yelled.

Janice rolled her eyes and spun the bottle.

And it spun, and spun, and spun. It spun for like, a minute. Two minutes.

And then stopped around Warren's area.

"Truth oooor dare, bitch! Pick your form of absolute fucking torture!"

"Wow, that was the teensiest bit harsh sounding, Janice." I whistled.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Truth or dare, Warren?"

"Whatever." He muttered, disinterestedly.

"Come _on._" Janice whined, "Pick one!"

"Dare. Whatever."

"Woo! Free reign on the sexy hothead!" Janice exclaimed, throwing her hands up in excitement.

"Just think of something and get it over with." Warren rolled his eyes.

"Aw _man, _you are the _worst _to dare. I don't think you'll be affected by _anything _I'll make you do." Janice scrunched her brows in thought.

"Good luck with that." Warren smirked, leaning back so he was against the side of the bed, and I scooched along with him so I could be under his surprisingly comfortable arm. He'd taken off his leather jacket, and as good as worn leather smells, cotton feels a lot better on the skin.

"Ahhhhhhh, what the hell am I gonna make 'im _do_." Janice rolled around some more on the ground, though this time in frustration.

If Warren were more talkative, he would have laughed evilly.

"Aha!" Janice sat up quickly and pointed a finger at Warren.

"Yes?" He asked, an easy grin on his face. If I were any less of a chick, or more of one, I don't know, I would swoon at the sight.

"Kiss her! Kiss Emily. Big giant fat passionate kiss. With tongue."

"What?!" I exclaimed, my face probably far more red than Layla's went when she got her dare.

"You heard me! Mass PDA! Now!" Janice cackled, obviously going for my embarrassment since he was like a stone, "Until I count to twenty!"

"But... But I don't feel comfortable with displaying affection!" Other than cuddling with his arms. But that's innocent. I've never even had a boyfriend, and now I'm expected to make out like whorish people in places where people see me!?

"You just helped Layla do the whore dance!"

"That's different!"

Warren stopped the argument by hovering over me and kissing the daylights out of me.

And effectively blocking me from the view of everyone else. Smart thinking.

I allowed myself to be thoroughly ravished for the twenty counts that were significantly longer than a second each, extremely meek compared to my usual personality if I do say so myself. I have shamed the gods of kisses by only going with the flow. But in my defense, I was doing research on how the whole kissing thing was supposed to go in the first place.

When Janice finished counting, Warren gave me a brush of the lips and a grin that made me swoon on the inside, and went back to lounging beside me.

"You're supposed to spin the bottle now." Quinn huffed.

Warren leaned forward, acting as if he was doing it out of his own volition and not reminded to do so, and spun the bottle harshly.

It landed on Ray.

I wondered if Warren rigged it. He didn't seem to like Ray much.

Warren stayed silent for a moment, eying Ray with dangerous eyes. Ray glared back with just as much passion. Maybe they're gay for each other? That would suck mightily. Nah, guys who kiss chicks that good can't be gay. That's like... blasphemy. Or whatever. That would be God just slapping the female population in the face.

"Balance on your head... And only your head. And say the alphabet backwards to the tune of some kid's song. Kid television show theme songs are preferable."

"No problem." Ray huffed, his ears turning an adorable shade of pink that clashed with his badass punk image.

He stood in the middle of the circle, kicking the bottle roughly at Warren, and did an effortless handstand. I wish I was that athletic. I heard he was in the running to be an X-Man. Roberto, too. Which was a pretty big deal. That's apparently the status of fame that a bigshot like Stronghold's parents get.

He lowered himself onto his head, squashing his spiked hair, and lifted his hands so he was like an upside down cross. Sign of the devil!

"He's got a lot of practice with saying the alphabet backwards." Roberto commented, earning a birdie from the upside down cross.

And then Ray started singing to the tune of the Itsy Bitsy Spider.

He was done in less than a minute, some of us almost crying from laughing so hard, and he flipped back onto his feet. Warren tossed the bottle at his head, and he caught it with ease.

"Let's make this game a little more interesting." Ray smirked, throwing the bottle carelessly at Roberto. Roberto also caught it with ease. Damn coordinated men.

"How's that?" Janice asked, standing up to join Ray in the middle of the circle and narrowing her eyes at him.

"Dare. Fuck truth."

"But I wanted to unwillingly let loose all of my deep dark secrets." Quinn whined jokingly.

"And what secrets could you have that are going to have any impact on us?" Magenta rolled her eyes, "Daddy not love you enough?"

Ah fuck. That's bad shit to say to foster kids.

Quinn let it roll off of his back and grinned at her.

"Never got one hug growing up."

I gave him a contemplative look. I was pretty lucky when it came to who my parents were. All three pairs of them. What was _his _childhood like?

"Fuck your emotional shit. Here's my suggestion. We split up into two teams. Nothing but dares. No person can go twice in a row. And, if we want to, we can target someone on the other team. You can only refuse once, and you still have to streak down the halls. If you refuse after that, your team loses lose."

"Competitive dare." Ethan contemplated, "I'm up for it."

"Yeah, sure." Magenta shrugged, which automatically meant Zach was in.

"That is the greatest idea I've ever heard." Janice said, wowed, and kissed him on the cheek. She is an affectionate one.

"How're we going to split up the teams, then?" Will asked.

"Boys versus girls! Hell yeah!" Janice yelled.

"There are more boys than girls." Magenta pointed out.

"No worries, Quinn is like one of the girls." I shrugged.

Quinn didn't know whether he should be insulted or not.

"That's still five to six."

"I know someone." Ray shrugged.

**Author's Note: **Anyone want to make requests for who our lucky guest will be? Minus the adults, who are Rogue, Gambit, Collossus, and Emily's parents, everyone else is pretty much fair game.

And thanks to everybody for giving me fun little dares to torture everyone with. The only thing I managed to fit in this chapter, though, was the Emily Warren goodness. We're leading up to Emerald Gaze's very detailed suggestion, though. And since it's too long for me to actually explain, you can find out on your own by continuing to read the story!


	29. In Which Emily Realizes She's a Bitch

"Whoo! Let's get this party started!" A blond followed Ray into the room, easily passing him with her ear length Farrah hair and shiny lips. The shine was from lip gloss. And lots of it. "Wow, there are a lot of cuties here."

She brought a finger to Ethan and trailed it down his neck with a flirtatious grin, "And the guys aren't half bad either!" She laughed.

"I like her!" Janice said to me excitedly, "She seems like fun!"

"You brought Tabby?" Roberto whined, "Really?"

"Hey, I'm not that bad!" The blond whined right back, "Sorry I'm not Amara! But this night isn't for getting laid, it's for letting loose!"

"You do that enough already." Roberto sneered. I didn't know he could sneer, "Ray, we're already this close," He held up his fingers and showed them how close they were, "to getting Xavier to come down here and tell us to pipe down."

"Please. Unless someone gets killed, he's gonna let us have our way." Ray smirked at me, "For our little guest here's enjoyment, right?"

I gave him a playful sneer.

"So how're we gonna do this, then?" I asked the rather large group. This night sure had turned out different from the angst fest I was expecting all by my lonesome. But it was a pleasant distraction.

"We can start by breaking off into our teams." Will suggested. I rolled my eyes. It sounded more like a BB gun battle now.

Hm... that would be fun.

Janice excitedly nudged Tabitha over to where the girls and Quinn had gathered.

I reluctantly stood up, relinquishing my hold on Warren. He walked over to the other side of the room where the guys were gathering, not looking to excited as he strutted across the room. Well, not strutted. That sounded really gay. It was more of this languid badass walk where he looked lazy as hell with too heavy limbs dangling at his sides but with so much barely restrained power lurking underneath him that every movement he made just looked so effortless. And yet at the same time my description was so inaccurate and stupid sounding and didn't do him justice at all.

Fuck, I had fallen hard.

Tabitha gave a low whistle.

"Man, who is that hottie?" Tabitha whistled.

"Not your type." I smiled menacingly, looking cheery and deadly all the same.

"Ah, you're the blue haired girl the mansion's all a twitter about, huh? The famous daughter we've heard so little about all these years." Tabitha said cheerily, "You're just about a legend in this house, just as much as your parents are. Don't worry, girl, I'm not the type to steal another girl's man." She grinned at me, "I've done that enough already."

"I can't say I'm comforted by those words." I was having this unmistakable urge to growl and put a big giant stamp on Warren's forehead that said that he was my property. Usually the possessive objectifying worked the opposite way.

"Relax, Ems. Save the catfighting for when we have some chocolate syrup on hand." Quinn joked, putting an arm around my shoulders. A fireball shot straight for his head, and he ducked just in time to not die.

"Dude! Not cool!" Quinn yelled at Warren who looked the teensiest bit smug, "It was a fucking hand, not my dick!"

"Oh, gross." Janice wrinkled her nose and groaned, "Mental image."

Which made me picture what she could have been thinking about.

I groaned in disgust.

Which caused Magenta to use her imagination and groan along with the rest of us.

Layla blushed in shame from our dirty dirty minds.

And the funny thing was, all the things we imagined were completely different from each other.

Tabitha laughed.

"This night is gonna be fun!"

"So who's gonna go first?" Quinn rubbed his hands together eagerly.

"We'll spin the bottle!" Tabitha exclaimed, running over to the bottle and spinning it wildly. It landed straight on her.

"Don't be a cheat!" Roberto protested.

"Oh yeah? Prove it!"

"It doesn't matter!" Ray rolled his eyes, "Make a dare then with your team. And make it fucking good."

"Do I ever disappoint?" Tabitha smiled flirtatiously at them before skipping back to her group.

"Let's make them all run around in their underwear!" Janice exclaimed excitedly.

"What?! You can't just do that!" Layla exclaimed.

"Sure we can! Wanna join them, cutie?" Tabitha asked, invading Quinn's personal bubble. That brought out the inner playboy in him and he smirked at her.

"Maybe some other time." He flirts right back.

Janice rolls her eyes and whacks him in the head.

"Plebians!" She yells across the room, pointing dramatically. Her hair billows in the nonexistent wind. "Your destiny awaits you!"

"Bring it." Roberto huffs playfully.

"Dance around in your underwear!"

"Run, too!"

"Fuck individual challenges." An evil cackle, "Everybody do it! All of you strip and dance and run!"

"I understand you'd be a little enthusiastic, Tabby," Ray rolled his eyes, "But you're being a little creepy."

"I wholeheartedly agree with her, though." Janice put in, "Everybody on your team should strip to your underwear and dance."

"And run." Magenta added, "You forgot running."

"Yeah, run all the way to the entrance and dance around the fountain. Sexy like." Tabitha smirked.

"Ha ha ha, strip!" Magenta cackled. Zach looked away embarrassedly. Aw, young love.

I blushed, suddenly, realizing that Warren was incredibly hot and he was on the other team.

I glanced at him quickly. Looked away. Looked at Janice. Saw her smirking at me. Looked away. Damn know it all.

Ray took off his shirt and threw it aside, revealing that he was both lean _and_ had a six pack. Janice whistled. I catcalled. Tabby yelled 'Yeow!' really loudly. Magenta had yet to be impressed. Ray probably wasn't scrawny enough for her.

Roberto was the next to strip, also revealing a sixpack, though he was a little broader than Ray. We gave him the same welcoming as we did Ray, and laughed when he did a little jig while he took off his pants. Layla was conveniently facing away from all of this along with Quinn. Layla because of her modesty, and Quinn because he really didn't need to see a bunch of guys strip.

Zach and Will kind of shrugged at each other and took off their clothes, Ethan reluctantly stripping a few seconds after. Zach surprisingly had some muscle on him, even though he was skinny as hell. He was bone and a thin layer of muscle. Will was fit, I guess. He had the makings of a six pack, but had yet to achieve full six pack status. But I'm biased against him, so I am not that impressed.

Ethan was just scrawny as hell.

"Hey, badass. You too good to strip down? Or are you hiding something?" Tabitha called.

I glared at her.

He rolls his eyes. Probably thought we'd forget him or something.

He takes off his shirt, peeling off a wifebeater too that nobody knew he was wearing in the process. He reveals the six packs that end all six packs.

There's silence for a second when he drops his pants, too. Boxers. Cause he's a man.

Tabitha starts clapping and hollering. Janice gives a low whistle.

"Damn, Ems, you know how to pick 'em." Janice says, impressed.

I blush. I keep my gaze away from Warren, but every once in awhile against my will it strays back to him.

He smirks at me once I accidentally make eye contact.

He has a tattoo on his leg. Yeah, I knew about the flame tattoos on his wrist, but the leg was surprising. It was black, unlike his wrists, and were these tribal markings that wound around his leg and vaguely half-formed into a dragon.

"Babe," Janice whispered, "You're drooling."

I quickly snap out of it.

"Now that you sexy boys are all unclothed, run!" Janice laughs.

Magenta has her phone out.

"I'll lead the pack!" Roberto says confidently, as if he were the alpha male leading them on the hunt.

I started laughing insanely.

* * *

Everyone was mostly enthusiastic in their descent towards the school grounds. All of them had paired off and were all a good distance away from each other. Ray and Roberto were heading the expedition, like Roberto had said he would do. They were racing, actually, frequently elbowing each other out of the way to get ahead of each other. Zach and Ethan then followed, so as to avoid getting horribly lost, huffing and puffing the whole way. Then came Will and Warren. Will was a few feet ahead of Warren, but every once in awhile lagged behind to run beside Warren, but then naturally sped up again and again. I wanted to smack him for being so repetitive.

Warren didn't care. At all. He didn't care that he was supposed to run, he didn't care that he was in his underwear, and he didn't care that the girls trailing behind them were shouting at him to actually go from a half-walk, sort of jog, to an actual run. Magenta tried kicking him in the ass to propel him further. He threw a fireball at her that I quickly made fly up into the air and disperse into nothingness. Then he started going even slower.

I decided to distract him into speeding up a bit more and started jogging beside him. The combat boots I was wearing were heavy and made a clunk clunk clunk noise every time I took a step.

"So, what's hanging?" I asked, keeping pace with his sluggish jog.

"This is stupid." He rolled his eyes in response.

I glared at Will to make him speed up to where Zach and Ethan were.

"Really? How so?"

He gave me a look.

"Well, it is creative, you know."

"No, it's not." Warren pointed out.

"No need to rub it in. I'd have had you all jump into the fountain and start wrestling each other." I joked.

"Quiet down." He bumped me in the elbow, "They might hear you."

I sped up the _teensiest _bit. He kept pace with me, not noticing at all.

"But running is good exercise, you know. Help you maintain that twelve pack you got going on."

He rolled his eyes.

I brought up the pace a bit.

"I mean, yeah, I saw you shirtless before, right?" (refer to chapter 13 of the Pyrokinetic Pyrophobe) "But never in comparison to other guys. You're like, Adonis with a tan. I'd call you a chocolate Adonis, but that would be both racist _and _incorrect. I'd be an incorrect racist!"

He grinned down at me in a bemused fashion.

"But you don't _actually _look like Adonis, you know. I mean, he was sexy back in his day, I'm sure. But you have twice as much jawbone as him. Yadadamean?"

"Yadadawhat?" Warren frowned in confusion.

"No Bay Area pride with you?" I asked sadly.

"Bay Area? Fuck, we're on the opposite side of the country."

"Pfft. You shame me." I sniffed. Ran a little faster to try and get ahead of him.

He easily caught my pace, chuckling.

"Freak." He muttered playfully.

"What!? How dare you!" I yelled with a grin, giving him a good punch in the arm.

Then ran away as quickly as possible.

He ran after me.

We quickly passed the Sky High trio, who then looked at each other and clambered after us as fast as their legs would take them. Will cheated and took to the sky. Ethan melted and zoomed off, but then accidentally tripped Zach. The two of them groaned, Ethan unmelted by then, and then jogged after us whining about how much pain they were in.

I headbutted a laughing Roberto and then quickly zipped in between the two. Warren shoved Ray aside roughly and almost caught up with me. Darn my clunky boots.

Roberto gave an angry Ray a smirk. And then transformed into this black _on fire_ thing and flew into the air where Stronghold was almost passing them.

"Where's your fucking sun, DaCosta!?" Ray yelled angrily up at Roberto.

"I charged up beforehand!" He yelled back before him and Stronghold zipped past everyone.

We were outside the mansion already when Warren caught up to me, grabbing me by the waist and flipping me onto his shoulder.

"What the fuck!?" I yelled, half giggling half wheezing, "Dance around the fountain without me hanging off of you, loser!"

I slapped him on the back, avoiding his ass. His glorious ass.

"Okay then. If you say so."

"Wait, hothead, what are you going to--AAHH!"

I was dumped into the fountain. It was shallow and I think I broke my butt.

Correction.

_Warren _broke my butt.

"You asshole! My ass fucking hurts, you fucking ass-fucking butt munching little shit face!"

"Ew." Magenta scrunched her nose, still filming the whole thing.

Warren smirked at me.

I leaped out of the fountain and tackled him around the chest, sending him to the ground. It was grassy and soft, and he only let out a little 'oof!'. It probably wasn't as painful on him as the stone fountain was on my ass.

"You think you're _so_ funny, don't'choo, buster." I narrowed my eyes, poking him hard on the chest after tackling.

"I was amused." He shrugged while on the ground. Everyone had stopped with their crazy antics to watch us by now.

"Dance, monkeys!" I shouted and some of them jumped in alarm. The ones with weak constitutions. You know who they are.

"Warren's one of the dancers." Janice pointed out.

"I don't dance." Warren pointed out right back.

"But that's the dare!" Tabitha exclaimed really really loudly.

"But I have to kill him!" I whined, "My butt really really _hurts!_"

Warren snorted before sitting up, with me still on him. Okay, that's a little awkward.

He then put a hand around my waist, _again, _and stood up, taking me with him. I squeaked, then denied in my head that I squeaked, meaning that you _did not read that_, and did a koala move to avoid falling down and hurting my butt even more. As in I clung to him for dear life.

"You are _dead, _hotshot. _Dead._"

Roberto danced by just then, hopping around like an idiot, and smacked me on the ass.

I gave a whimper of pain. Oh, the pain.

Warren threw a fireball at him. He's been trigger happy lately.

I snickered as Roberto scampered away like an even bigger idiot than before.

"You're halfway forgiven." I informed Warren, pushing him away and landing on my feet. "But you still have to dance around the fountain."

"I _don't dance._" He insisted.

"Then do it _anyway_." I pushed him after Roberto and skipped away to Janice and Quinn.

"How's your ass?" Janice snickered.

"Want me to kick yours so you can share my pain?" I snapped.

Warren walked slowly while everyone else danced past him.

"Looks like a job for Meltdown!" Tabitha cackled, rubbing her hands together, "Hey, sexy fireman! Dance!"

She threw little glowing orbs at him that exploded on impact.

He, _slightly_ panicked, jumped around, avoiding the small explosions. He was impervious to fire but the blasts fucking _hurt. _She paused in her assault for a second to make another batch of explosives.

He growled and sent a huge wave of fire at her. He'd been working on that.

"Whoa, flameboy! Relax!"

He ran after her with a fireball in hand. She ran away laughing and throwing little bombs that he dodged.

Realized that he had been through worse than the little sting that he would be dealt from the bombs.

He'd been thrown through walls and into concrete fucking _pillars_ and walked off like it was nothing.

She glanced back after throwing a time bomb and saw that he just ran through them, little scorch marks all over his body but having no affect on him whatsoever. She saw cause to freak out.

"Ahh!" She yelled, tackling Ray and using his body as a shield once they were on the ground, "I'm too fun to die!"

"And the dare ends now!" Layla yells loudly over the panic, realizing that Warren really didn't care if he burned through Ray to get to Tabitha, "Let's go back to the room!"

Tabitha was the first to run away, dragging a dazed Ray behind her.

Warren was the last, of course, not caring enough to walk fast. I lagged behind, too. I found myself not liking Tabitha, even though she reminded me a bit of Janice. But Janice did not flirt with Warren. Janice did not like Warren, even. So I was a bitch. Okay, then. I can accept that.

I raised my hand.

He raised an eyebrow.

I pointed to his hand and then to mine again.

He unraised his eyebrow and just frowned at me.

I physically lifted his hand and made it hi-five mine.

"God, you're impossible." I muttered.

"I don't hi-five." He said.

"And you don't dance. Whatever." I huffed, "What _do _you do?"

He grabbed me by the hand and spun me around, eerily similar to all of those cheesy romantic movies. Only he grinned dangerously and the heat was rolling off of him like crazy. He was too cool for cheesy romantic movies.

"You really wanna know?" He asked. Dangerously. There was lots of danger in his voice.

"Pervert." I said, sounding extremely weak.

He does nothing but grin wider before kissing me. My limbs go to jelly and his other hand that isn't holding my arm rests at the small of my back, keeping me from falling. Damn pervert was well acquainted with the whole knees-going-weak bit, huh?

"Hey, lovebirds! Stop drooling over each other and come on already!" Janice yelled really loudly, probably waking up the whole mansion.

I scampered away.

He was way too hot for his own good.

* * *

"So, how do y' feel 'bout y' _fille _datin' dat Peace boy?" A man asks as soon as he enters the private room. He doesn't worry that he might walk in on something inappropriate, like one might do when walking into a private room.

His girlfriend was in there.

He sits next to said girlfriend, a mature young woman with waist-length brown hair with dramatic white, not just _bleached, _but _white_, stripes framing her face, shorter than the rest of her hair and ending around her elbows.

"What!?" John exclaims, shooting up from his comfortable spot on the couch next to his wife. His wife's legs, in fact, were resting on his lap beforehand and fell with an unceremonious thump to the ground. She glared at him.

"'S true. Y' couldn't tell from de googly eyes dey always be makin' at each other?"

John starts grumbling about burning the boy alive.

"And den out at de fountain she be kissin' him while he less den half dressed." The man has a full on smirk by now.

"What?!" John exclaims even louder. A fireball appears from the igniter on his hand. He's ready to kill.

"Stop teasing himm, Swamp Rat." The woman next to him rolls her eyes, "Ya lookin' like an ass."

"Just tellin' de man de trut', Roguey." Swamp Rat pouts, automatically turning to mush and ruining his bad boy image.

"My daughter has a boyfriend." Wanda said simply to herself, hexing her husband back on the couch, sans the ball of fire.

"We need to kill him!" John insisted.

"No. We don't." Wanda rolled her eyes, "When Maximoff women get guys, that means that they're going from insane to relatively acceptable to society."

"You're just saying that from your own experience! We didn't even raise her!"

"My mom didn't raise me." Wanda shrugged, "She's fine. She can just smother all the fire in his system and kill him if he ever tries to hurt her."

"_Elle et fou."_ Remy muttered to Rogue, stressing the word _fou. _Fou was French for crazy, "_Et morbide."_

"Why do you think I'm her friend?" Rogue smirked.

"He's speaking full sentences in French, Rogue." Wanda's eyes were narrowed, "I don't like it when he does that."

"_Desole, _Scarlet. Didn' mean t' aggravate y'." Remy held up his hands in a peace gesture.

"Your existence aggravates me." She says simply, "But I can't hex your insides out. Rogue would get annoyed."

"Believe meh, I feel like doin' the same sometimes." Rogue jokes.

**Author's Note: **I've been reading through past chapters, and have noticed that as a typo, sometimes I write 'you' instead of 'out'. And in that second to last line, I was looking away while I typed and wrote 'you' instead of 'out' again. Luckily I caught myself in time. I am my own beta!

Thanks to Flaming-Angel-1 for the suggestion of going outside and dancing around in underwear. Much appreciation.


	30. Flit

"That was a hoot." Janice laughed as they gathered back in the room, "Your turn, boys!"

Quinn elbowed Janice in the side.

"Minus Quinn, of course, who's manliness is so vast I'm unable to comprehend it properly." She rolled her eyes.

"Okay! Let's huddle." Roberto said, and the boys formed a circle, whispering to each other evilly. A few minutes went by like this.

I shivered and peeled off my jacket. I had forgotten my clothes were soaking wet. I was wearing a skirt, though, so that helped. I rolled out of my socks, too. They were very long socks, and very cold.

"Break!" Zach yelled, and they clapped their hands and parted.

"We want you all to strip down to your underwear," Roberto announced, while the girls groaned about their unoriginality, "And make a pyramid. The guy can go on the bottom row."

"Yes!" Quinn whispered to himself.

Pervert.

But atleast I have an excuse to get out of my wet clothes, even though there are seven pervy men in the room drooling over the boobs in the room.

"Woo!" Tabitha threw her shirt off and spun it in the air before tossing it at Ray's head, revealing stripes and polka dots and pink lace and bright bright orange.

"Nice underwear, Blue!" Roberto cackled.

"I know they are!"

I was proud of my underwear. Not a lot of chicks wore underwear with Eduardo (from Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends) on the front. And it had a little tail coming out the back, too. Hell, I don't even know where I got it. My bra had less character than my underwear, though. It was just blue and polka dotted. But there were cute little bows on the straps.

Magenta was all black mesh and purple lace. But she looked a little butch, too, which was kind of weird. Maybe it was the combat boots that she refused to take off. She was a girl of extremes. Girliness meets butchiness meets sarcasm.

Layla was modest and green. Of course.

Quinn's boxers were black and white pinstriped. I was _so _surprised.

Janice took off her pants, not caring in the slightest that she was wearing a blue lacy thong, and then raised her hand.

"Yes?" Roberto asked.

"No wait. Nevermind." She said, and morphed so she had scaly skin. Well, selective scaly skin. Her stomach and the insides of her legs were still regular skin.

She took off her shirt and revealed that she wasn't wearing a bra at all. But the scales protected her modesty.

Good thinking. Ho bag.

Ethan fell to the floor, overwhelmed.

Janice started cackling.

"Okay!" Quinn clapped his hands together, "Who wants to be on the bottom row with me?"

I smacked him in the arm.

"Don't be so obvious with your pervishness." I chastised.

"Sorry. Hug?" He spread his arms open and dove for me. I ducked, but then he did too to avoid the fireball at his head.

"Dude! Why! Why the fire!?" Quinn yelled across the room.

Warren growled in response.

"Warren's feeling trigger happy today." I whispered to Quinn.

"Ah." He said.

"So! Who has the strongest arms?" Tabitha asked, putting her hands on her hips. Because of course the ones with the strongest arms went on the bottom row. It was common sense.

Quinn started analyzing all the girls.

"Ew! Look away, pervert!" I joked, shoving him and making him face the other guys. He waved at them awkwardly.

We then compared muscle mass.

Tabitha got first place and Magenta second for strongest arms.

And Janice won third place with arms and first place with legs, which mean she was going on top of the pyramid. She said that legs were the most important limbs a female shapeshifter could have. I was confused how, though, but she was the shapeshifter, so she would know best.

I was second place with legs. Thank you combat boot training. And my pedestrian lifestyle. I only got fourth place with arms, though. I'll have to work on that.

Tabitha got third. And pouted about it. Her X-Men training had failed her.

Magenta got fourth for legs. She had combat boot training too, but not as much as us three.

Layla was a string bean. So she got last place.

So Tabitha and Magenta were put on the bottom pyramid with Quinn in the middle, and Layla and me were on the second row.

Quinn made a stupid remark about having a harem of half naked women on top and around him. So in response, more like a reflex really, I dug my knee into his back, he buckled under the pain, and we had to rebuild the pyramid again.

When everything was stabilized, Janice hopped up with her award winning legs and threw her arms up in the air happily.

Ray snapped a picture with his phone.

"Dude, send me that shit." Roberto said in a serious tone. As serious as someone can sound while putting 'dude' and 'shit' in the same sentence. He sounded like Brad Pitt from Burn After Reading. Calling people 'dude', and calling everything 'shit'.

Zach discreetly whispered at Ray to send him the picture, too. He called him a 'dude', too. Blonds. Magenta noticed and rolled her eyes.

Magenta then rolled out of the pyramid, not caring that she was the _support _of all the rest of us, causing a collapse of limbs and a happy but barely breathing Quinn.

She walked up to Ray and tried to take the phone out of his hand.

He, of course, was an _X-Man_. And was very good at playing keep-away. He was also a bit of a bully when he was in middle school. But not a jock bully. A bully that bullied jock types. A minority bully.

"You have a video of me running around and dancing in my fucking boxers. I'm keeping one picture of you chicks." Ray defended.

And then he shoved the phone down the front of his pants and smirked _real big _at her.

"Don't think I won't get it." Magenta growled before pouncing.

Zach grabbed her and tackled her to the floor before she could get into Ray's pants. Dirty joke intended.

"Let go of me!" She snapped, and I had this mental image of her with fangs and frothing out the mouth.

"No! You're going crazy!" His expression of fear beneath the extremely thin mask of bravery he had on told me he was also picturing her with fangs and frothing out the mouth.

She calmed down.

"You're right." She shrugged, pushed Zach off of her and then walked away and put her clothes on like nothing happened.

That was probably the first time I saw Zach stand up to her. Ever.

Good on him.

"Ew, Ems, your clothes are all wet and stinky. Like icky wet things you leave in a crumpled pile to dry which then smell like mold." Janice wrinkled her nose, fully clothed already and holding my nasty clothes in the air for all the world to see.

Because Warren threw me into the fountain.

I glared at him. It was all his fault.

He rolled his eyes and peeled off his shirt, revealing his delightfully formfitting wifebeater underneath. I was so busy staring at the wifebeater that I didn't notice he had gotten closer until he shoved the shirt over my head. Gently, of course. He _gently _shoved the shirt over my head.

And then snorted when the torso of the shirt rolled over my shoulders and swallowed me up, the sleeves dangling at the sides.

"You're gonna catch a cold." He said, using Quinn's jacket (since Quinn was still dressing and therefore not in possession of said jacket) and ruffling up my hair. It was wet. And cold. But Warren was nice and warm.

I put my arms through the sleeves, and laughed at how they dangled past my fingers, even when I was stretching them to their limit.

"Ew. It makes you sick, doesn't it." Magenta wrinkled her nose, giving us a disgusted glance.

"Yeah. Completely." Zach agreed.

"But it's a little less nauseating than Layla and Will." Magenta shrugged, "I guess their couple time is cute. When that red haired chick fucked with their brains, I thought I was going to throw up on them."

"Totally. With the nicknames and stuff, I was like, what? You know?"

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, Zach stood up to her for like, a second. But now he's back to worshiping her every opinion again. She's going to grow up with a horrible ego.

And we were not disgustingly sweet with each other.

I reluctantly removed myself from under Warren's arm.

And realized I wasn't wearing pants.

The shirt was mid-thigh, though.

But still.

Pants.

Oh, right. I have luggage. I didn't need Warren's shirt in the first place. Not that I'm going to tell him that. Hah. Like I'll ever give the shirt back. It's comfortable as hell.

I skipped over to where my luggage was and ruffled around until I found some black capris. The cool kind, with the little ties at the end that made it scrunchy like I was a musketeer or something. A hip, modern, female musketeer. Hells yeah.

I skipped back to where my team had huddled.

I zoned out.

I was kind of bored. This was losing it's excitement a bit.

"BB gun fight!" I yell loudly in suggestion.

"Hell yeah!" Ray yelled from the other side of the room.

Quinn and me then hi-fived and hollered like really dorky manly men.

Zach and Ethan did a chest bump, looking every bit like the scrawny geeks trying to look cool that we all knew they were.

Tabitha whoops in approval of the suggestion.

And with that it's decided.

"Same teams as the dares!" Ray decides, "I've got some BB guns stashed in my room!"

Roberto gives him a curious glance before shrugging. Then Ray runs out of the room to get the BB guns.

I cackles evilly, thinking of the ensuing chaos.

Janice joined in, with a hysterical touch to her laughter.

Tabitha then started laughing wildly.

Layla decided then that she should be very very afraid of what's going to happen. Her friends were all going insane! Or, well, moreso than they were earlier today.

* * *

"Alpha Dog, what's your position?"

_Crackle. Click._

"Staring down Flying Wonder with Green Peace, Bluebird. Awaiting orders." A manly voice whispered.

They had "borrowed" the communicators from the X-Men and set them to two different frequencies.

"Green Peace. Confirm Alpha Dog's statement."

"Statement confirmed. Will--ouch!--_Flying Wonder _seems to be hovering. We think he might be bait."

"One of you attack while the other covers. Have Green Peace form a nest around you two if you want to be paranoid."

"Affirmative."

I, Bluebird, had made a fort.

I pushed the sofa into the corner of the room, propped some pillows up above my corner, and was ready to shoot anyone that came into the room.

I then got bored, destroyed my fort, tied sofa cushions to both the back and front (like how they do it in laser tag, only it was armor that _shielded _me rather than make me a bigger target) and started prowling around the mansion.

And then found Tabitha and Roberto sucking face.

It was pretty disgusting, and they were in my future hiding spot. That little dip in the architecture that, if one weren't looking for a perfect hiding spot, would have been unnoticeable.

It was _really _disgusting. They were making icky slurping noises.

I'm just going to run in the opposite direction then, turn a corner, and then....

And then run into Warren?

Ouch. My head hurts.

But my stomach is well protected!

And obviously I look like a dork, because he's laughing when he tugs on the one string that makes everything collapse. Bastard.

"What did you do that for!?" I whisper-yell, feeling very unprotected without my sofa armor.

"So that I could do this." He says, lifting up his BB gun.

I, having common sense, automatically realize what he's about to do and lift my gun, too, not bothering for a Western showdown where we stare each other down, daring each other to make the first move.

He obviously has the same idea, since we both shoot each other at the same time. I was a millisecond faster, of course. So I was still in.

"You're out." We both say at the same time.

"Fuck that! I hit you first." I argue.

"You're delusional." He sneers right back.

"That's completely irrelevant!"

"Whatever. I'm in, you're out."

"No, _I'm _in, and _you're _out. Because I hit you first, therefore I am still in."

Warren rolls his eyes.

"You were cheating, anyway, with that stupid ass pillow armor."

"My ass is _brilliant_!"

"You don't need to tell me _that_."

"Warren! Did you just..." My face turned bright red, "Was that an _innuendo_!?"

Warren rolled his eyes.

"You and Janice pretend to be girlfriends. In the middle of the hallway. Loudly. How is what I said so scandalous?"

"But.. That's to make _others_ uncomfortable!"

He has a predatory gaze to him, making that happy little innocent smile not so innocent, and starts backing me up against the wall.

"Oh. Am I making you uncomfortable?" He inquires.

"Shut up." I say pathetically. Where were my witty comebacks?

"God, it's been awhile." He starts, now completely towering over me like the stupid tall thing that he was.

"It's been less than half a fucking hour." I snap.

Warren shrugged as if that were just a minor detail, not what he had been basing his whole statement on. Instead he kissed me, briefly but filled with so much fire it almost overwhelmed me. The fire was metaphorical for _passion._

"I think I might get addicted to that." He admitted with a casual grin, and everything about him overwhelmed me. Stupid teenage girl. Get your head together!

"Oh, really?" I asked breathlessly, "Can't say I mind much."

God, something about him was like prescription drugs that I was popping twice as much as the suggested dose. I was already addicted to him. Fuck. It was kind of scary, how used to being with him I already was after a day. How awkward I _didn't _feel, even though I was so used to being so independent and shoving away boys like they were moth eaten rag dolls.

He kissed me again and this time I bit his lip in protest. The bottom one, because people usually had two. He growled and bit me back so we matched. I glared at him and his eyes laughed back at me. A chuckle rumbled in his chest and his breath was harsh against my face. I was so _aware _of him, more than I had been with anyone in my life. Nobody had ever caught my attention like he did.

Fuck, I was screwed.

"Hey!" Tabitha called, "Save that philandering for your own time, okay? No fraternizing with the enemy right now."

Warren groaned in annoyance and buried his face into my neck, still all close and pressed up against me. My face burned.

"I've taken him out of commission." I shrugged, "Isn't that good?"

"Not when _you're _out of commission, too. At least my philandering _was _to put people out of commission." Tabitha shot him in the back, "There. Now let's go, Rebellious Blue Haired Girl of Nature."

Warren chuckled into my hair, not caring the least that he was just disqualified. Again.

"What's the status on Red Haired Girl in Harmony With Nature?" I asked in a very official tone, still not letting go of Warren now that my face didn't feel so red, "Has she been discovered?"

"Yes. And she managed to take down Morally Superior Boy of America. Orange Sexy Nerd melted in time, and Boy Drenched in his Own Personal Blacklight knows how to duck and cover like hell. _He _has been bullied growing up, I'm sure."

"You saw the whole thing?"

"Yup. Took out the Electric Socket, too, before I ran away."

"So we only have the two to go after? The Nerd and the Light?" I grinned at Warren, "You have been completely pummeled."

"Yeah? Same to you."

I frowned at him.

And then we were all pelted with paint. Even me, who was already partially disqualified. Tabitha gave a very unsexy squawk of outrage.

"You... You lured me out here!" I exclaimed as Zach 'boo-ya'd!' and ran away to hide.

He gave me a raised-eyebrow look.

"Noo..." He dragged out, "The blond just talks too loud. And none of you know how to look around when you're talking."

"No, the blond just talks too loud. And none of you know how to look around.

"That could be why I'm not an X-Man." Tabitha noted to herself, "They always say I don't pay enough attention."

"Or know when not to interrupt a couple." Warren said pointedly.

"Oh, right! You guys are making out and everything. Sorry, catch ya later." She gives us a salute and then runs away. Probably to find He Who Looks at Mirrors.

"You think they had any clue at all that we already took each other out of the game?" I ask innocently.

"Who cares." He said, leaning his head down for some more kissing action.

"Agh." I put my hands up and stopped his face's approach.

He frowned at me.

"What?"

"I can't!"

"What do you mean, you can't? It's not that hard."

"But now that she pointed it out and everything... I dunno. I can't. It's like when you're playing light as a feather and you open your eyes and then everything falls."

"Say what we were doing." Warren dared, his eyes narrowing.

"What are you talking about?"

"Say. What. We. Were. Doing." He said slowly, dragging out his words and sounding a little bit dangerous.

"But it's not like you don't know! You were there!"

"I know. So say it."

"Why should I?"

"To prove that you can? Or are you too _embarrassed_ to say that we were kissing. Because we're together. Or are you too embarrassed to admit that, too?"

"Of course not!" My head was like a tomato with blue vines.

"Then _say it._ Coward."

My eyes narrowed.

"Shut up."

"Only if you say it."

"No!"

"And why is that?"

"Because I feel like defying you!"

He drops it, suddenly, and laughs.

And then I laugh, too. And cannot stop laughing.

Like.

An.

Idiot.

* * *

"We should do stuff like this more often." Janice laughed, collapsing on the floor and throwing her BB gun at Quinn, who had collapsed beside her.

I hobbled into the room, exhausted beyond belief, and made a grab at a blanket before collapsing on the floor and dragging it down with me. Kill me.

"Whoo, you said it." Tabitha laughed tiredly, collapsing on top of Ray, who was spread eagle on the floor and groaning in aches and pains, and used him as a pillow.

Warren was completely unaffected by the fact that it was seven in the morning and we had spent the whole night running about, whispering excitedly to each other, drinking mountain dew shots with pixie sticks dumped inside, spread on our fingers and licked off like salt, getting into Mr. Logan's beer stash, running around some _more_, trying not to wake up any of the mansion, and other chaotic happenings.

"I want to sleep until I die. And then spend the rest of my afterlife sleeping." Will groaned to himself, making his way over to a bed and falling on top of it.

"Gaahhh." Was Zach's response, as the rest of them filtered into the room and collapsed.

Warren lifted me up, and I was too tired to protest and whine about it, and then unceremoniously dumped me on the bed. If I had any energy in me at all, I would complain about that, too. I complain about a lot of things, actually. Instead, though, he just lay down beside me and sort of deflated, not even bothering to grab any of the blanket that I wrapped myself up in. Like a sheet cocoon.

Maybe in the morning, I would sprout into some entirely different majestic thing. Maybe I'd have wings. Blue, sparkly fireproof wings that would flit. Flit and flit... and... flit.

**

* * *

Author's Note:** Sorry I didn't get everyone's in. There were a lot of suggestions, and I was dragging this out. A lot.


	31. Wake Up

"I want to kill him." A voice said. Surprisingly familiar, but in my sleep-induced haze I couldn't quite make it out. Make _him _out. Identifying genders was a start.

"You can't _kill _him, darling. Not only would the big man frown down on you for it, our daughter cares for him a bit. It would hurt her feelings." That was a chick. Okay.

"I don't care about what God thinks of me. You should know that by now."

"We're not going down that road, hon. I was talking about Xavier, not your angst."

"Oh. Right. But I really want to kill him."

"I don't care about your wants. You should know that by now."

"Witty."

"I know."

"Can I _please _kill him?"

"Well, you _did _say please."

"So can I?"

"Why are you even asking? Just do it."

"Okay."

"What, are you crazy? You can't kill him! He's my daughter's boyfriend!"

The man talking to his crazy wife sighed. PMSing lunatic.

"Hey!" I sprung up, finally putting two and two together and realizing they were my parents talking about killing my hot steamy leather jacket man. "No killing. It's bad."

And then looked around to realize that me and Warren were the only ones still asleep. The rest were... Looking through my things.

"Do you have a collection of obscure undies that I didn't know about, babe?" Janice snorts, looking through one of my suitcases, "I mean, these have tails, cartoon faces, _zippers_... What don't you have?"

"My space feels violated. And you guys are doing nothing about it." I glared accusingly at my 'parents'.

"Your father can't handle more than one violation of your space, hon." Wanda shrugged, her foot swinging her cherry red pump in the air from her position on the sofa. John's fingers were twitching, as if he wished for nothing more than to burn somebody to a crisp. Joy.

I sighed. Didn't expect much help from them, anyways.

"Ooh, you're into knitting!" Quinn exclaimed, holding up a half-finished sweater, "Are you gonna be one of those hot domestic chicks who knit? Don't turn into an old granny. It's gross."

"You're gross." I huffed back.

"Your boy toy is gross." Quinn responded.

"He's my _man _toy, thank you very much. More than I can say for you."

Quinn started pouting. I love how teenagers are allowed to be so mean to each other.

A loud groan signifies Warren's awakening, and he rises, sort of, shaking the sleep out of his head and staring blearily out at the room.

"The fuck are they doing?" He mumbles, gesturing towards the bad bad kids looking through my things.

"Invading my privacy."

"Oh."

He throws a fireball at Quinn's head. He ducks, squealing.

"That fire was scarily close to me." I warn, trying not to have a shaky voice. I guess I was still a pyrophobe. That sucked major balls.

"Oh." He says, again, and instead of produce mass amounts of fire, he pats me on my head like I'm a little kid and he's the neglecting father. Dick.

"Wanda," I whine, "How come yours is so whipped, but mine's an asshole?"

Wanda bursts into a coughing fit that eventually turns into laughter.

"I'll tell you when you're older." She says, and John starts glaring at Warren again. It's like that was all boys were capable of. Pouting, being assholes, and glaring.

"Where's everybody?" Warren asks, stifling a yawn, noticing that his friends were not here looking through my stuff. Or preventing my stuff from being looked through.

"Getting breakfast." Janice answered, holding up my blue stuffed Heffalump and cuddling it. Old school Heffalump, not that new movie Heffalump version, where they were still badass honey stealing bitches. Heffalumps were hardcore.

"Nn." He grunts, to show that he acknowledged her, and stood up, grabbing his leather jacket and donning it.

"Aw," Janice said in a teasing voice, "Is Mr. Peace a widdle gwumpy wumpy in the morning?"

Warren glared. Boy, I sure picked a talker.

John muttered something and Wanda started laughing again before slapping him on the head.

"We should probably drive you all home, then." John says as Will, Layla, and the rest of the sophomore gang, with excellent timing on their part, walk into the room juggling plates, bread, and jam.

"Why?" Quinn whines, dragging it out until Janice kicks him in the shin.

"Polite guests don't linger past their welcome." She chastises, earning a gold star for manners.

"But..." Quinn stammers, spouting a bunch of random nothings that made no sense at all.

"Do you have something you'd like to share with the class, Quinn?" I ask in between stuffing my face with bread.

"I don't want you to be alone." He finally mutters, looking at me with these adorable puppy eyes through that white fringe of his.

"Isn't that just adorable?" John says sarcastically to Wanda, who starts laughing, "We'll be waiting in the kitchen."

"Coffee. Yes." Wanda nods, and the two of them leave.

"Suck up." Zack coughs loudly into his hand, and Quinn smacks him.

Zack smacks him back.

Pretty soon the two are having a bitch fight, trying to smack each other and pulling hair, and Janice and Magenta are caught between laughing and helping out their significant others/close friend.

Finally Will, as in puppet Will controlled by Layla, separates the two with his strength.

"That dude has gotten on my last nerve!" Quinn exclaims, roughly shoving Will's arm off.

"Same here! There can only be one comedic blond in the group, dude! I don't even know when I'm the butt of a joke anymore!T" Zach also shoves Will's arm off.

"My words exactly! I don't know who the hell they're talking to when they say Albino!"

I roll my eyes. They're like twins having an identity crisis.

"So this has all been very unexpected..." Will starts nervously.

"The neon one is Lightbulb or Glowstick, and the other is Albino or Dumbass." I point, before thinking for a second, "Nah, both of them are Dumbass. Albino is Creeper."

Magenta looks at them expectantly.

"Happy?" She asks, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

The two dumbasses look at each other skeptically. Then they do a man-shake and everything is better again.

I shook my head. That was a complete waste of time.

* * *

John Allerdyce, middle name excluded _because he said so_, was a survivor.

And to be a survivor, he was a badass mofo superpowered cockroach-like freak who was tough, somewhat evil, and very very dangerous.

He was also a little protective. Though he mostly showed it through burning people alive, he was very protective over the short list of people he cared about. And reluctantly protective over the children of the Xavier mansion, however bratty and annoying they may be.

One brat, however, he was very protective over. It was not intentional, of course. When he had found that he had accidentally knocked up the love of his life (also a reluctant feeling), he had been annoyed. Very very annoyed. However, once he looked at that ugly wrinkly tiny thing looking up at him with fiery brown eyes that were _just like his, _he decided that if anyone so much as _tried _to harm one single hair on her ugly wrinkly tiny head, he would lock them up in a well ventilated box and burn them alive slowly and painfully.

So when he had heard that Bobby and Kitty had died in a fire, supposedly started by his daughter, and a day later Baron Battle shows up in the joint, grinning wide and insane, something that used to be a rare sight but was now permanently etched onto the man's face, John's eyes narrowed. They had history, those two, and John had been planning on killing him before he got sent to jail.

John had never been so angry in his life.

His daughter probably cried because of that lunatic.

And that lunatic is running free, and no amount of hours logged in Cerebro by Xavier is helping them any, because for some reason the stupid fuckers have found a way to hide.

He entertains the thought that they have no thoughts to find. But he isn't entertained for long.

Because that Peace boy, bastard son of Baron Battle, is like one big giant blinking sign in the shape of an arrow, leading the insane psycho right to his daughter and wife. Wanda is too arrogant, like he once was with Bobby. She figures that she's more than enough to send Baron back where he came from, and Emily being in the mansion now makes her all the more comfortable. But Kitty and Bobby, two of Xavier's finest, are _dead _because of that psychopath because they thought they were more than enough to protect his daughter.

John had been planning on killing Baron before he got sent to jail.

And if he finds Baron, there's no doubt in his mind that he will.

* * *

"I want to go back to school." I say abruptly, pausing in my knitting and causing Wanda and John to pause their TIVO.

"You sure you don't want a few more days?" John asked warily, getting his "worried father" look spot on.

"I'm sure." I shrug. Having my mornings spent moping in the hospital and my evenings spent moping at the mansion was doing wonders for my mental state. Pretty soon I would start contemplating suicide, and I did _not _want to go down that road.

Wanda nods decisively.

"You're right. You don't want that Peace boy getting seduced while you're away," Damn, that thought never came to me.

"What?" I squeaked, panicking a bit. Everybody loved the hot sexy firestarter. He was just about the only boy in school that could pull off a leather jacket.

What if Rachel screwed with his head...

To make him _her _boyfriend?!

"You can borrow one of my corsets." Wanda says, as if that would solve everything_. _Maybe my breathing issues, as in the fact that I _could_.

"A corset? To school?" I ask disbelievingly. My mom was wicked cool.

"You're not going back to school." John decides, "Ever. You're better off without Baron's son. Or any boy, for that matter."

Wanda waves off his decision and smiles at me. John gives her a "we'll talk about this later, wifey" look. He's getting good at those looks.

"You're gonna be one sexy daughter of mine once I'm through with you."

Insert a big scared gulp.


	32. Corsets and Stupidity

"I feel like a freak." I whispered to Betsy, trying to hide in my bus seat. I could feel everyone staring at me, I swear.

I mean, I've worn miniskirts and fishnets to school before. It's a given. I've even worn those puffy skirts made of tulle.

But today, I was in a short little miniskirt, with leggings for modesty that went mid-thigh and didn't reach my legs at all, and a _corset. _With arm warmers. I looked like some poster child of Hot Topic. In an _actual _corset; not the ones that Hot Topic actually sell that I usually wore. They had straps. This one was a sweetheart corset, which meant all boobs and no straps.

Wanda didn't let me wear a jacket. Her daughter is going to freeze to death and she _doesn't care._

I feel objectified. Really, I do.

Betsy turned to look at me, and for some stupid reason beyond me I started to blush and feel even more self conscious than I already did. And then that made _her _blush and turn away.

"Don't worry about it." She mutters in an attempt to ease my freakishness. She's such a good friend.

I was still worrying.

And it was worse when I got to school. People were _looking _at me, dammit. I mean, tank tops are one thing. Spaghetti straps are part of that category. And so are ripped up tank tops on top of spaghetti straps. But _corsets _are something that's usually reserved for dances and the superhero life. There, corsets are a necessity. But at school, corsets were a way to say, "Hey. I'm a freak of nature. Let's never be friends."

Wait...

I didn't _want _to be any of their friends. So whatever I wear shouldn't concern them, right? I could go streaking and, because they _weren't _my friends, nor would I ever want them to be, they wouldn't be able to tell me anything I would care about.

Self-esteem replenished!

"Well, someone's looking a little seductive today." Lash. Goodie.

And my self-esteem plummets.

"Aren't you dating somebody?" I asked, willing him to go away with my mind.

"Nope. Artistic differences." He gave me a cheesy grin and casually stretched a striped arm over my shoulders.

I casually elbowed him in the gut.

"Artistic differences? What kind of crap is that?"

"It was supposed to be funny. She's an artist, yeah? Artist, artistic differences. You know?"

"Oh. Hah." I said dryly. It was a fake laugh.

Lash frowned. And then grinned again just as quick.

"How about you and me this weekend, then? We can go bowling."

I blinked.

"Are you trying to make me your rebound?"

"Maybe if I had any feelings to actually get over, you would be. But right now, you're just incredibly attractive. And one of the only chicks who won't go running every time she sees me." Lash shook his head, "Like I'd _really _try to turn them into babies again."

I couldn't help it. I'm weak. And because I'm weak, I laughed. And Lash grinned really wide, as if I were leading him on. Which I might have been.

And leading people on is bad, boys and girls.

"I'm taken." I said a little abruptly, my laughter cutting short and his grin dropping.

"What?"

"I'm taken."

"No, I heard you. I meant, who?"

"Oh. Warren." Is my face really really red right now or is it just me? Oh wait, it _is _me. That's why I know my face is red. Because it is.

"Peace!?"

"Yes?"

"You could choose _anyone _to be your boyfriend, even that nobody little skirt-chasing albino," We're skirts? Really? Is this the 1920s now? "And you choose my rival? My archnemesis?"

"Your what?"

"My archnemesis?"

"No, I heard you. I meant... You actually use that word in daily conversation?"

"Yes? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, it just seems a little cheesy is all. I mean, really? I thought you were too cool for capes."

"Just... Whatever. Listen, Peace is bad for you."

I raised an eyebrow.

"No, really. I'm not saying this as a way to get you, although I wouldn't object if you wanted to."

I gave him a glare.

"Peace is damaged goods, Blue. And while you may think he's all smokey eyes and chiseled abs now," Am I the one who's with him, or are we in a slash fic? "Pretty soon you'll find out like all the other girls who fell for him."

He leaned closer to whisper, and I couldn't help but be curious and lean forward to hear him.

"Warren Peace can't handle a relationship."

And then he walked away. Bitch.

As if my self esteem couldn't plummet any farther.

* * *

"Hey, hey, Emily, can you wear a corset _every _day?" Quinn asked excitedly in Power Development.

Janet had already had her explosion of "Sexy _mama! _Take it off!", but had thankfully skipped gym with me. I mean, how the hell am I supposed to get in and out of a corset in under five minutes? To hell with that. And then we hid out in the library during break.

But I had no reason to skip Power Development. Nope. Other than my self respect.

"You disgust me." A passing Rachel said to Quinn.

"Who asked you?!" He snapped, as hostile to Rachel as I wanted to be. Good boy.

Rachel chose to ignore Quinn and address me instead.

"I heard you're staying at the mansion, too."

"Too?" I asked, a little confused. I didn't see any familiar faces there.

"Yeah." Rachel nodded slowly, as if I were mentally impaired, "I _live _there."

"What?"

"My dad is an instructor." She said, sounding it out as if I were mentally impaired and now deaf, "I live _there_, but go to school_ here_. Do you understand?"

"You're fucking me."

"I wish."

"Funny."

"I know."

"And you're staying out of my head." I stated, almost daring her to say otherwise.

"Like I'd want to read your thoughts." Rachel scoffed, "I tend to avoid crazy."

"You don't know anything about me!" I snapped.

"I'm a mindreader." She drawled, "I know _everything _about you."

Quinn had to drag me away before I jumped her. The bizznitch.

"I'm going to hurt her face." I grumbled, elbowing Quinn so he would let go of me.

"Relax," Quinn soothed, sticking his tongue out at Rachel, who was putting away her yoga mat and not facing us. Still, her spidey senses told her what Quinn did, and she flipped him off behind her back. "Class is almost over anyway."

The bell rang.

"See you at lunch." Quinn chirped, kissed me on the cheek, and then ran away before I could slap him.

I hate corsets. They hurt my lungs and make people think I'm a ho-bag.

* * *

"Hey, sexy lady." Janet greeted, scooting over so I could sit in between her and Quinn.

Sitting might be the worst thing about corsets. I'm a sloucher, honestly, and the corset doesn't let me relax properly.

"Oh shush." I waved her off and glanced oh-so-discreetly at Warren.

He was glaring down at his book. Okay then. I slid him the lunch I made for him (very delicious ravioli) and he grunted in acknowledgment.

And didn't look at me at all.

Hell, was he really seduced from under my nose?

Was the corset for _nothing_?

I have no self-esteem now. At all.

"How come only the flamethrower gets food?" Quinn pouted, putting his head on my shoulder and looking greedily at my meal.

I rolled my eyes. I could ignore my lack of self-esteem in exchange for paying sole attention to my wit.

"Because the _flamethrower _doesn't buy lunch every day for himself, unlike you, the boy who already has a full meal in front of him." I motioned to his hero burger, salad, fries, pie, and coke, "And you also don't matter as much."

"You wound my heart."

"Well, wounding the outside is boring nowadays. I have to find other ways to entertain myself."

"Oh," Janice commented, "You're useful. Who knew."

Quinn sneered at her.

Warren still hadn't said anything. Or looked up.

It would suck if Lash was right.

I studied him.

He didn't seem angry; just frustrated. Like he sometimes always is. If it were anyone else, I'd say that he was panicked. But I had never known that emotion on him before, so he couldn't have been.

"So, Warren, you seem chipper today." Will started, implying that he should be happy that his girlfriend was back in school with them.

Warren shot him a glare, more than however much attention he spared me today, and then looked back at his book.

"Dude, what crawled up your butt?" Zach asked, ending whatever pointless conversation he was having with the others.

Instead of replying with some anger-filled comment that was meant to rip Zach's ego to shreds, he just growled and stalked away.

He didn't even _touch _his food.

"Hey, if you don't mind, can I have the food?" Quinn asked, a bit of his own food hanging out of his mouth.

"Knock yourself out." I grumbled, really wishing that I could slouch right now. Warren was bipolar, I swear. I mean, yesterday he was.. dare I say, _affectionate. _And now it looks like he wants nothing to do with me.

Is that the reason? Was I too touchy feely before?

"I'm going to go after him." Will announced, shuffling off to confront his best friend. Lucky. If I went after him, he would probably break up with me.

"Hey, babe," Janice nudged me with her elbow, "I'm going to the mall afterschool. Want to come with?"

I weighed the options in my head. Might as well distract myself.

And check out OPI's new season.

"Sure."

* * *

"Hey, Warren!"

Warren picked up his pace, and Will was forced to half fly, half run after him.

"Warren!"

"Shut up." He finally growled, slamming a steaming fist into the lockers beside him and spinning around to face his friend.

It left a big enough dent that Will had to reevaluate whether or not _he _was the one with super strength.

"Warren, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Warren warned.

"That's the biggest nothing I've ever seen. Come on, you can trust me, right?"

Warren rolled his eyes, grabbed Will's arm, and then proceeded to drag him into the combat room. Not because Warren was going to kill him, although he sometimes thought about it. Rather, the combat room was soundproofed. Mostly because it let the teacher get away with slamming his students into the wall and making very very loud abusive noises without the other teachers getting worried.

And it also allowed them to have private conversations without being overheard.

"My father."

"Again?"

"They still haven't captured him yet." Warren ran a hand through his hair and glared at Will as if it were all his fault.

"Yeah, my dad said he fell completely off the radar. Even psychics can't find him. He didn't... contact you, did he?"

"Fuck no. He doesn't give a shit as long as he knows that I still look just like him and can torch up."

"What's the real problem here?" Did Warren _want _Barron Battle's attention? He was his father, after all. It was understandable, especially for someone who hated Will as much as he did at first sight because Will's dad locked up his.

"He's after Emily." Warren admitted.

Will looked at Warren suspiciously.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Stronghold." Warren rolled his eyes, "I'm _sure_. And it irritates the hell out of me."

"So... Because you're worried about Emily, you're ignoring her."

Warren shot Will another glare.

"It's kind of funny," Will commented, "How you tend to stoop down to my level of social idiocy once you have a girlfriend."

* * *

A BLAST TO THE PAST

_Fire was everywhere._

_"Bobby?" She wheezed, squinting through the flame at a blurry figure. God, she hoped it was Bobby. She hoped the crack she heard, the gunshot, didn't mean what she thought it meant.  
_

_"Sorry, precious." The figure cackled, "Don't bother trying to run. Your husband is dead. There's no one to quell the flames, and there's no way your pretty little powers could let you go through fire. I would be **mighty** impressed if you made it out alive."_

_Fire licked at every inch surrounding her, the smoke threatening to choke her, even as she was almost crawling on the floor in search of clean air._

_"You can't. E...Emi.." She coughed, her eyes searching through the fire desperately._

_"That adorable little girl of yours? Emily!" Baron's eyes widened comically, "Except she's not yours, is she? No, no, you took her. Took her when her parents were away. And now you hid her away somewhere that I can't find her."  
_

_Kitty tried to argue, but all that came out were loud racking coughs._

_"You're going to say that she was **given** to you, right? I knew you would. But that child should have gone to **me**. It's because I'm not dressed up in some shit leather costume saving the fucking world, isn't it? That Pyro that's masquer__ading as a fire wielder, that child's father; he's a disgrace, parading around as if he can **save** something instead of just destroy. But that child... Eventually that child is going to be mine, even if I have to kill everyone in my way to do so. And I will kill them. Your husband--I was a little worried for a second, there. He put out my fire effortlessly. He's been training since he fought the Pyro; he could've frozen the whole world if he wanted to." He chuckled, "But we are not gods. And humans are so progressive. A little bullet to the heart did the trick. Not like anyone would be able to tell. He's just ash, now._

_"I have an alibi, of course. Two, actually, depending on my plans for later this evening. I wonder how your daughter would react, knowing that a slip in her beautiful powers killed her lovely mother and father? How glorious._

_"Oh. You're dead already. That was faster than I expected."_


	33. Warren Is An Asshole

"Why are boys assholes?" I asked, pouting into my milkshake.

"Their high testosterone levels sometimes have side effects resulting in irrational and idiotic thinking." Betsy explained, taking a modest bite out of her cheeseburger.

"Damn, that's good." Janice whistled, "Can I use that?"

Betsy nodded a yes.

This was as interesting as the mall got for us. Me, pouting over my love problems. Janice, occasionally swearing at Warren and then laughing at my problems, and Betsy giving quiet advice.

God, I was so self centered.

Janice's phone rang, and I decided to stop moping enough for her to answer it.

"Oh shit." She swore, and flipped open the phone before I could ask her what the problem was.

"You've got a hell of a lot of nerve, man," She started, before she was cut off by the little buzzing sound in the phone, "Do not interrupt me when I'm about to get into a rant! Fuck, you're rude. What? Don't make _demands _of me! I owe nothing to you, got it? Oh. Of course I was listening to your demands. Heh. You want to apologize, right? Hey! Don't whatever me! And don't call back until you learn some respect." She gave a short little impatient sigh, "Yes, that means I'm hanging up on you."

"Wow. Who was that?" Usually Janice waited a few seconds before blowing up on people.

"Your boyfriend. Oh, and your phone is turned off, sweetie."

"What? Why didn't you let me talk to him!"

"Because he was being rude and demanding and obviously in as crappy a mood as he was earlier. So until he wants to be nice to you, I'm going to hang up on him."

"Wow. Thank you for making my decisions for me."

Janice shrugged, a little embarrassed by my large amounts of sarcasm.

"Sorry. I was caught up in the moment."

* * *

"Bitch!" Warren looked at the little 'call ended' on the screen and, as soon as he felt his hands starting to steam, threw the phone on his bed. It bounced up from the force of his throw and fell on the ground.

"No luck?" Will asked, safe in the chair by Warren's desk. It wasn't a swivel chair, sadly. But Will busied himself with picking at the little fibers that made up his seat.

"That idiot, the fucking _shifter_," He spit out the term as if it were a bad word, "Hung up on me. Said I was being rude."

"Well, you were." Warren glared, "Which is perfectly understandable given the circumstances! But they don't know the situation, right?"

"Which is why I'm trying to _tell _them." Warren reminded, as if Will had forgotten in the last few seconds, "This is the perfect time for my dad to attack them. She's completely unprotected."

"She's not alone, though."

"He's patient enough. The _second _she's alone..." He balled his hands into fists. This was worse than his father missing his birthday party because he was going on a homicidal rampage. Fuck his birthday. His dad was practically attacking _him_.

Yesterday, when he came home from work, a couple of suits were inside his house, informing him that his dad had paid his mom a visit, and that now his mother was visiting the hospital suffering severe burns.

If she didn't have her powers, she would have been...

He shook his head.

He could do something about this. His mother was the one who warned him in the first place; she was the one who told him the truth about his father and Emily. She knew something like this was coming, and she would be fine. His mother was prepared.

But Emily was flying blind.

And that's where he came in.

* * *

Huh, blocked ID. That's always a little disconcerting.

"Meet me at your house. I need to apologize. Warren." I read aloud.

"He still seems rude as hell." Janice huffed.

"But it's not your choice, because he's not _your _boyfriend." Betsy noted.

Janice huffed again.

"He's always been a little rude," I shrugged, "I might as well hear what he has to say. I'll see you guys tomorrow?"

Betsy nodded.

Janice pouted.

* * *

And continued to pout until she was distracted enough to stop.

She was alone, by now, since Betsy had to disappear for some odd reason she wouldn't give up, and Janice was too morally righteous to spy on her.

Or Betsy's powers let her sense people's minds, so Janice _couldn't _spy on her.

She was brooding a bit, in a dark corner of a cafe. With black coffee to represent the darkness of her soul.

Yeah, she was deep.

She even changed her ringtone to cello music, and would have smiled as it rang if she weren't so deep and dark.

She looked at her cello-projecting cell phone and frowned. The bastard was calling her again.

Which was a little strange, seeing as he was supposed to be playing nice with Ems right about now. Maybe she stood him up?

"Where is she?" The bastard's voice growled.

"I can't help it if she decided to stand you up." Janice chuckled, taking a long, loud sip from her coffee that was sure to annoy the asshole.

"The fuck are you talking about? I just got at this stupid fucking mall. Where are you guys?"

"No, you're at Em's house. And she should be too. You texted her, remember?"

Janice rolled her eyes and exited the cafe, her image of darkness and solitude ruined now. Her eyes subconsciously zeroed in to the only leather jacket-clad six-feet sexy man in the crowd, and she felt the urge to curse. His eyes quickly found her, seeing as she had blue skin and bright white hair, and his frown deepened noticeably enough for her to tell from a good twenty feet away.

"Do I _look _like I'm at her house?" He asked into the phone before stalking towards her.

"Oh fuck."

* * *

I waited about five seconds before I got bored and decided to wait inside the building. Not only is it extremely stupid to wait outside an apartment building in the dark all by yourself when you can wait behind a big locked gate, it's cold as hell.

"You are such an asshole sometimes, Sparky." I sighed to myself as I walked up the stairs, nodding to the people passing by whether I knew them or not. It gave me something to do. One, two, three four, ooh, that guy looks like a bum. And a psychotic one at that. Is he allowed in our apartment? Five... six.....

Only six people. That's boring.

I might as well make some tea while I'm waiting. It's cold as hell, and I'm only wearing five layers.

And the heater. The heater is very good.

And, just as I get inside the apartment, the power shuts off. Why is the power not working? It's dark. And cold.

And I have an electric stove, dammit!

Fuck life.

* * *

"What do you mean I'm not allowed to come!?"

"For the hundredth fucking _time, _shifter. You go and get Stronghold, then tell him to fly around and tell the X-Men. Or his parents. Both, whatever. Calling them would be faster, but only he would know their numbers, and the fucking idiot doesn't have a cell phone."

"Why don't _you _go, then? You'd get to Stronghold faster."

"No, I wouldn't, because I told you where he is and you're faster than me when you're in the right form. And because out of the two of us, I'm the only one who's _fire-proof_."

She spent a few moments glaring at him.

"Every second you're wasting, Barron Battle _isn't_."

"Fine." She gritted her teeth and spun around, yelling so he could hear her even as she was bending her limbs at odd ends and angles until she looked like a humanoid cheetah, "But know that if this didn't concern Emily, I would kick your ass with my argumentative skills."

She sprinted on all fours as if her life depended on it rather than Emily's. She contemplated attempting to grow another pair of eyes in the back of her head so her retreating back could glare at Warren a bit. But the impossibility of creating something new from her shifts would waste time that she didn't know if she had.

Beyond the looks, Janice honestly couldn't see why Emily liked the know-it-all jackass.

* * *

"Emily!" A familiar voice yelled, footsteps barreling up the stairs and landing at my door.

"Thank god." I sighed. I was beginning to get a little creeped out.

I lowered the baseball bat, but I didn't set it down until I had unlocked the door and Warren was standing in front of me. Okay, maybe I didn't set it down. I just loosened my hold on it.

"Are you safe!?" Warren asked, seizing my shoulders roughly and looking around me at the same time as if something would jump out from the shadows. My hold on the baseball bat was tight again, but I couldn't help but compare Warren to Gandalf. 'Is it secret?! Is it safe?!' Woo. Creepy.

"Yeah? Just the usual paranoia. Why?"

He decided to ignore me and brushed past me.

"Are all your windows locked?"

"Please. I haven't opened them in _months_." Even before Mark was hospitalized, "These stupid birds keep having babies outside our window; every morning I had to resist the urge to knock them out of the tree. Even _through _the windows I could hear their annoying tweet! Tweet! I mean _seriously_, why can't they just _shut up?_"

"I'm asking myself the same thing." He turned back around to grin at me, leaning against the window.

"Shut up." I pout, "So what brings on the sudden insanity?"

"My dad."

"What about him?" I'm sure all convicts were nice, deep down. Or maybe that's just my own bias. Not only were my parents ex-convicts, but Ray apparently has been in Juvie like... ten times. I dunno. He's my first hardcore friend.

"He's after you."

"After me."

"Yes."

"Barron Battle."

"_Yes._"

"After... me."

"_Yes!_"

And I thought there was only one crazy in our relationship.

"Now what did you really want to talk to me about?"

"Nothing, other than that. Because I didn't tell you to meet me here."

"Then how did you know to meet me here, huh?" My logic is irrefutable.

"Your shifter friend told me."

"You're lying."

Warren rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to throttle her as he would have done Will if he were being so _stupid._

"No, I'm not. And we need to get you away from here before Barron catches up with us." He moved past me again and started tugging my arm out the door, but I didn't budge.

"Where is he now?" I asked, a little reluctant against following him out the door. He glared at my feet that refused to _move, _dammit, probably considering if he should just knock me out and drag me by my hair like a caveman.

"I don't _know_. Which is why we need to leave. Now."

"Um, Warren?"

"What, Perkins?" Warren snapped, showing how annoyed he was with my newfound ability of _lingering._

I backed up until I was well into the middle of the living room, far far away from the doorway that he was in.

"_What!?_" He growled, the animalistic sound showing that he was very very angry with me.

I gulped, very very scared right now.

He sighed and ran an aggravated hand through his hair.

"Sorry. Just--Emily, there's something I have to tell you."

I finally backed into the opposite wall of the door, my eyes staring past Warren's shoulder.

"Before you do... Does your dad have curly dark hair and bright brown eyes? Kind of an amber shade? Maybe a golden brown?"

"Has he spoken to you before? Do you remember him?" Warren asked with an angry possessive glint in his eye.

"Hasn't spoken yet, no. I know him from about two seconds ago, when he showed up behind you like a... Oh God, does anyone useful know you're here? Like a psychic? A hydro? Psycho telepathic bitch, even?"

"Fuck!" He spun around to face his father and threw a punch. Barron, who probably took martial arts classes, ducked and grabbed Warren's arm, spinning him and throwing him into the center of the room. Instead of rushing at him, as soon as Warren got up he backed up until he was standing protectively in front of me.

My hero.

His arms erupted into flames and I jumped as far back as I could with him hovering over me. Honestly, my hero has no manners at all.

"Language, Warren." Barron eyed the arms covered in flames and shook his head.

That just seemed to add to his overall scary demeanor. The first words I heard from him weren't 'prepare to meet your doom', or even 'BWA HA HA HA!'. Just an average phrase that I heard, on average, about twelve times a day. And yet, paired with his insane grin, it seemed all the more... Bone-crushingly _creepy._

"Really, I thought my genetics would produce a more intelligent son. Do you really think that _fire_ will do anything to me?"

"Oh, God," I buried my head in Warren's shoulders, picking fiery infernos over the sight of his father, as Barron's rotten teeth were visible in the firelight, "Hygiene. It's not such a complicated concept. I'm sure they provide toothpaste in solitary."

He growled, looking animalistic and dangerous, but not in the sexy way Warren did when he growled.

"Perkins?"

"Yeah, honey bunches of oats?" Don't ask. I'm just cool that way.

"Shove it with the insults."

"Aw, you're beginning to talk like me too!" I cooed, poking him in the back of the neck.

He made a sound that was a mixture of a disappointed sigh and a hostile growl. A sign which meant he thought I was going to die very soon.

As if, my survival instincts will kick in, thanks to being scared to death every gym class! I know it will happen.

"Such a quick tongue. Just like your mother. The both of you never quite had much tact, though."

"Which mother? I have a list." I asked, lifting my chin in the air defiantly. He couldn't see me, though. Which meant I couldn't see him either, thank god.

"Your real one. That kitty cat... She and her husband could never hope to raise you like your real mother would've. I had to do _something_ to prevent you from being subjected to such torture. I'm awfully sorry about that, by the way. I'm sure, in time, you'll be able to forgive me for that. And for what I'm about to do."

"What do you mean? For _that_?" I asked, my grip tightening on Warren arms, "For _what_? And what the hell are you going to do?"

"Oh, don't say my darling son has been keeping from you the truth about your family?"

"What truth..." I slowly let go of Warren as he turned to me. A funny churning feeling erupted from my stomach and clenched my throat tightly. The kind of pain you got when you knew that tears were coming, that something really really bad was about to happen..

"Emily, I'm sorry. I didn't think-"

"_What _truth?"

"It wasn't your powers that killed the lovely Drakes. Although that certainly helped cover it up. In fact, if I didn't overpower you, it might have saved them." Barron's grin widened, exposing all the yellowing teeth hanging from his gums, "I melted and suffocated the both of them, respectively."

"... No." I choked out after about ten seconds of absolute silence.

"The Commander and Jetstream certainly caught me that day, but not before your fake parents were already burnt beyond existence."

"Shut up. You didn't kill them, it was me. I remember it. I saw the candle and I spread the fire."

"Mastermind does wonderful jobs with memories." Barron grinned and my stomach dropped. He was telling the truth...

Even now, my memories and nightmares were unraveling and I remembered mom opening a hidden room in the floor and hiding me there. Smelling smoke and hearing screaming, trying to push away the flames I could feel all around me--but feeling it push back even _harder, _smothering me, becoming unbearable. Oh god, the _screaming_.

"You... You killed them..." I quickly turned to Warren, my mind working quickly now that it was out of the short-lived denial, "And you _knew_?"

"Emily-" He started before I cut him off, too angry to listen to whatever reason he had.

"No, you don't call me that! You... You do not _dare_ look me in the eye. I bared my heart for you. Multiple times. You _comforted _me when I was crying about how I thought I killed them when you _knew _what really happened! I—You! We _kissed_! Were you planning on letting me live with that guilt for the rest of my fucking _life_!?"

"It wasn't like that! I only realized it was you when I met your real parents."

"And you didn't think to mention it then?!"

"What was I supposed to say? Oh, you're Wanda and John's daughter? Funny thing is, I think my dad killed your adoptive parents! Your years wasted on your festering guilt were all for nothing. Joke's on you!"

"Well your dad certainly didn't have any problems!" I threw my hands up, my anger at the betrayal too strong to even consider confronting the man who had killed my parents, "You... You're worse than Barron Battle'd ever be! Because he may be a murderer, and criminally insane, but atleast he doesn't _pretend _to give a crap!"

Barron clapped, slowly, leaning against the doorframe casually.

"Brava... Bravisima! I see there are unresolved issues between the two of you. Don't tell me we fell for the same type of woman, son!" Oh, gross. Disgusting. Ew.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the both of them. I hated my life.

"Is there a point to this?" I growled out. Maybe I was so used to having every detail of my life twist around so unexpectedly, the only response I had to it now was anger.

"Oh, don't worry," Barron said reassuringly, "It's nothing against you personally,"

"That makes me feel so much better now." I made sure to roll my eyes and cross my arms.

"It's more of getting back at your father."

"And what did he do to you?" Big mistake. As soon as the words escaped my mouth, his face got even uglier, scowling and snarling and nasty visible spit flecks flying from his mouth.

I took advantage of his anger and subtly pressed the little SOS button on my wristwatch. Thank you paranoid superhero parents with access to hi-tech gadgets.

"Did he kick your puppy? Let me guess--you were a waiter, too, and he left you a crappy tip."

"Quiet!" Okay, ranting won't work either. "Your father ruined my life! He stole my love! My heart!"

"Your precious?" I suggested.

"Not helping." Warren ground out.

Well neither is your existence helping. Asshole. Go die.

"My _Wanda_."

"Oh."

Ew.

TBC

Authors Note: And we're almost done! Sorry I kind of suck at updating regularly. But I'm trying, and that's what counts. And thank you for all the lovely reviews that motivate me to churn out new chapters. Without them, the story would probably be dead.


	34. Blue Explosions

"My... _mom_?" Keep him talking, no matter how much therapy you would need in the long run. That's life-threatening situation rule number one. Buy enough time to execute a counter-attack. And enough time to _think _of a counter attack.

They were all fire-types, which made fighting each other with powers a little useless. And even though the asshole could take a normal high school student easy, and even Will Stronghold on a good day, this was his even bulkier father. He's probably spent all his years in prison lifting weights and planning out his insane revenge.

And I was his revenge. God, that sucked.

"Ah, yes, your mother. You look so much like her." He sighed wistfully, looking at me with a scary glint in his eye, "It's a shame you received your worthless father's powers."

I turned away, trying not to show him how freaked out I was. There was a thought, going in and out of my head every once in awhile, that maybe, just _maybe, _I had gotten Wanda's powers too. If I did, that would maybe tip the balance in favor from freakishly-strong-psychopath to weak-limbed-heroine.

I just hoped he didn't try and rape me before I got a handle on it. That's always the fear that every girl should have, especially a girl that's never even gone past kissing. It's what stops us from walking down streets alone like a damsel with a sign tacked to her forehead saying 'Save me Commander!' Us normals girls _don't want to get raped._

He was in a little rant now, a long-winded one, about how worthless and stupid my stupid fire-stealing father was. Stupid being the replacement words that even a sailor-mouth like me felt uneasy repeating, even in my mind. His rant was so long-winded that Warren decided to take advantage of the Talking Rule and start inching to Barron's back.

Just as he was about to deliver a dangerous looking kick to Barron's head, Bruce Lee style, Barron whirled around and _caught it_. With _one hand_. And brilliant blue butterflies exploded between them, almost blinding me to the scuffle.

I was hallucinating.

I shook my head quickly—that I knew that I was hallucinating should have been enough to stop it, but the butterflies wouldn't go away. I could hear sounds alright, though. Barron was laughing, sounding creepy, and Warren was a mix of grunts and growls.

Well that didn't tell me anything.

A big wrinkly butterfly, like the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland, floated in front of me, looking every bit like the pretentious asshole we all know he is.

And then he blew smoke in my face and started laughing.

"Go.. the fuck.. away!" I yelled at myself, beating on my head a couple times, and pain exploded behind my eyes before making it's way through my whole stupid nervous system.

Lots of pain.

So much pain that I couldn't even think about anything until the pain started receding, and then I could only think about how the pain was so effing _painful._

I lay in pain for five minutes, or hours, just trying to start breathing again before I opened my eyes.

Warren was on the ground, his everything covered in scratches and his eyes struggling to stay open. His body was struggling to stand up, too, the way his arm was twitching and he was on fire with anger. It didn't look good.

Barron didn't look good either, nursing a split lip and a little limp to his step, but the bastard had _rings _on. Rings with sharp points. The bastard fought dirty.

"Made those rings outta the soda cans they let you have in prison? Surprised they'd fit over them ugly-ass sausages you call fingers." Why am I taunting him? The filter on my mouth must be broken from the pain.

He snarled with a grin and a laugh, looking like one of those laughing hyenas on steroids and coke all at once. Was he frothing at the mouth, or was that the smoke coming off of his body.

The whole room erupted in flames, and I quickly extinguished everything before a panic attack could come on. This was nothing like Save the Citizen. This was the _reason _for my firephobia, and the screams were just as loud as they were the first time I heard them.

He looked surprised for only a second before he powered up with renewed vigor. The flames were powerful, but I was desperate not to let them breathe. The pain was coming back, like my own head was on fire and then doused with ice water and then set on fire again.

He sneered, and then the flame was back and he was charging at me and I was ducking under my arms and burying myself in the small comfort darkness could provide me.

But it wasn't black. It was... blue. And red. With slight hints of blinding whiteness. Was I already dead?

I rose my head, and there were sparks everywhere. Everything was like there were firecrackers attached to it, with all of my apartment's remaining possessions twisting and dancing around me. Lightbulbs were exploding, and everything was _blue_. Wonderful, glorious blue.

"Wanda..." Barron gasped painfully, all of the blue things attacking him, "What happened to your fire? Why is it so ugly now?"

I was crazy. The butterflies exploded into wing dust that was wreaking havok on my living space and my would-be attacker that looked like he was having a mental breakdown. Everything was blue except for him and that stupid orange glow around him. I hated that orange, just like I hated fire and psychopaths and everything that was him.

He collapsed onto the ground, after his orange exploded in blue, and I saw Warren behind him, holding a toaster in his hands.

The door crashed open and a whole team of leather-clad superheroes stormed in, my parents and Will's heading the pack.

"Your timing sucks." Warren managed to mutter, before collapsing beside his father. I was going to say something witty too, but the pain finally caught up to me and what little of me that was upright fell onto the ground and everything went black.


	35. getoutgetoutgetout

"Sweetie? Get the doctor, John, she's waking up. Hey babe, you wonderful daughter of mine."

"Muh?"

"It's okay, you don't have to talk. I remember my first time. Had a migraine for weeks after, got snappy at everything. Specially Pietro. He was always so noisy. I tried to kill him, but then his powers manifested and he escaped death. Shame."

"Mmrgh."

"I just don't know why you didn't tell me you were hallucinating. I mean, I would've been so _excited_. That's how you tell, you know. I almost got used to seeing a flaming drag-queen brother riding on a flying cow everywhere I turned before I finally started making crazies happen. Not like how he is now is much of an improvement. At least the cow was _interesting_."

"Wanda, cool it. She can't even speak right now, much less understand what the hell you're talking about."

"Shut up, John."

"Only if you do first. Let her get her bearings before you dump all that on her."

"..Alla wha?"

"I can't believe you have both of our powers! This is so exciting!"

Exciting. Sure.

Nauseated is how I feel right now.

* * *

"So when can I see her?"

"She's with her parents right now, sir, I'm sorry. Only two visitors at a time--she's been through a lot."

"But this is important. I've been waiting for half an hour, and I really need to talk to her."

"I'm sure your girlfriend will be okay if you wait just a little bit longer, alright?"

The nurse walked away in an annoyed huff and Warren sagged into his seat, looking up only when red chucks were staring him in the face.

"Stronghold." He grunted.

"So how is she?" Will asked, the whole gang in tow.

"Awake."

"Have you spoken to her? Is she alright?" Janice asked, the rest of them twittering like annoying birds. And since when was the redhead allowed? The telepath bitch didn't care about Emily at all.

He looked at the telepath and the dreamweaver holding hands and rolled his eyes. Of course.

"They haven't let you talk to her yet." Will stated, not asking.

"She knows now." Rachel added, and Warren glared.

"Stay out of my head."

"She's hurting." Rachel kept on going, her mouth remarkably tiny compared to how much it blabbed, "You worry so much over how not to follow in your father's footsteps, you've managed to hurt her more than the Barron ever could."

"Rachel," Betsy said quietly, a hand on her arm, "Now's not the time."

"Now's the _perfect _time. He thinks that he was the only one angsting that whole time, and that he was _protecting _her. How fucked is that?"

"Wait. I missed something here." Zach said, holding up his hands to try and slow it all down.

"It's _not our problem_." Betsy hissed.

"Yeah," Will agreed, "The only people it concerns is Warren and Emily, so we should just let them talk it out. Just the two of them."

"Does this have anything to do with the Barron?" Layla asked, concerned, "Is she in danger?"

"No, the Barron's gone." Warren sighed. These people were exhausting. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered talking to people.

"Did you even ever care about her? Or is staying with her something you thought would make you better than the Barron who couldn't even make a life with the mother of his child." The accusation in her voice made his blood boil. How dare she imply that he just went out with her out of guilt for his father's fucked up life.

"You don't know anything about me." Warren snapped. "Don't presume that a spectator like yourself would know _anything _about how my mind works." There was a small tickle in the back of his mind and he lashed out at it, holding back a vicious grin as she visibly winced and staggered back into Betsy, "And if I catch you in my head again, I'll roast you alive."

The nurse advantage of the silence that followed to approach them.

"Her parents have gone home for the night." She said, giving them a studying look, "I suppose you can go in a group and get it over with, but no tiring her out."

A group. So that everyone can see her chew him out? Not likely.

"I'll just see her last." He decides out loud.

"Too good for the rest of the group?" Quinn sneers, quiet until now. Janice was also suspiciously tight lipped.

"We have a lot to talk about." Warren grunted, "I wouldn't want to bore you."

So Warren sat. And thought.

Another half hour of thinking and they were out, laughing and talking as if everything in the world was fine, and Will gave Warren an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

"I'll wait up for you." He says, as if his presence would actually help in the grand scheme of things.

Warren gave him a weak smile.

It kind of did.

* * *

"Emily." He walks into the room cautiously, and winces at the sight of her. She looks so frail on the hospital bed.

She frowns at him, a flash in her eyes showing how much she was enjoying how uncomfortable he felt.

"You're okay?"

"Yeah, fine." She snaps, "I can see straight now, thank you."

"Emily, I'm-"

"_Don't_. Don't bother apologizing." She turns her head way to stare off at the medicine cabinet.

"But I should." He shifts his weight around and glances quickly around the room nervously before his gaze makes it's way back to her. She's so _small._

_"And what are you going to say? Sorry 'bout all those times you burst out crying because you thought you'd _burned your parents alive when it was really the fault of my insane father. I just kept it from you to, what was the reason again? It just didn't come up?"

Her eyes flashed again and this time there was a hint of a sadistic grin as she dug the knife deeper into his metaphorical wounds. And he deserved it, along with every bit of pain that she decided to throw at him.

"It wasn't like that-" He was quickly cut off and the frustration of it all caused the temperature in the room to rise.

"Then what was it like!?" She snaps, "What the hell could it be like that you couldn't tell me? Did the-"

"You'd hate me!" He froze, his fists unfolding nervously as he stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"I'd hate you?" Her voice was quiet and rough, "I'd _hate _you?" A wave of red hot rage washed over her, making her hair stand on edge and her toes tingle until any hint of a smile, sadistic or not, had turned into snarls of anger, "What kind of _fucked up _logic is _that!?_"

"How the hell should I know!?" He yelled. Patches of red donned his cheeks and he frowned deeply at her, wrinkling in between his brows as he clenched his fists sporadically. "God, I feel as stupid as Stronghold."

"No, you're worse! Because most of the time you're masquerading as this level-headed—and now you're—you make me so—Aagh!" She threw her hands into the air before pointing at the door, "Get out! I'd be fucking grateful! You retarded son of a bitch! Just... You're right! I hate you! Get out!"

"No. I can't, not until you-"

* * *

"I said get out!" I closed my eyes and put my hands over my ears, chanting over and over getoutgetoutgetout until I felt the scuffle of those padded nurse shoes that only seemed to make the walking sound louder. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking, taking in the hospital room and the nurses and whatever they were putting in my IV right now. Privately I sighed and lamented over how the hospital scene set the mood for how crappy my life was right now. Out of my control.

And as everything grew black and fuzzy, lights in my eyes from the brightness of the room, I scowled.

I bared my heart for him so many times. What the hell did he ever give me?

* * *

Warren clenched his fists, feeling his arms smoke as he stalked out of the hospital doors. Hopefully some poor sap with weak lungs wouldn't die of smoke inhalation. But what did he care about some stranger? He couldn't be trusted to take care of a pet rock without it either dying or suffering severe emotional damage.

The only relationship he thought was going really well, no, _great_ (nothing like him and Frost, where opposites really didn't compliment each other at all,) he screwed over in a completely different way than with Frost. He _lied _to her, and kept a secret that caused her so much fucking _pain _because he was too pansy to put himself out on a limb every once in awhile.

Cause hell, Stronghold managed to have those heart-bearing speeches all the time, but Warren never considered it necessary for someone as level-headed as he was. He was too smart. Or too much of a secret coward.

And yes, it would have been uncomfortable and awkward, and he probably would've subconsciously stolen some lines from Stronghold, but she was one of those types who joked about everything and never opened themselves up to anyone, which made them kind of the same in a cheesy, antisocial way. And that made her comfortable enough to _cry _in front of him so many times he couldn't even talk to Will about how uncomfortable it made him feel and _God _he was a dick and she had every right to hate him. Just like she said she did, along with the phrase, 'Get out!' which she had repeated over and over, looking so broken and hysterical while he had just stood there like the utter dick that he was until the nurses threw him out on his sorry ass.

"So I'm guessing an apology didn't work?"

Warren glared at Will. And punched him in the face.

Having him there really did help.

TBC

Author's Note: So I know I've been taking a super long time to update and everything. It's a mixture of school, hospital stuff (not fun), and me having more of a social life than I did before. But this story'll be done in a few chapters, hopefully soon, and then I'm thinking about doing another story about Emily. Either centering on a new freshman with Emily as an upperclassmen, or with all of them grown up and out of high school. Fun fun.


	36. A Little Brooding

"Tell me when they're not touching."

"Why, so you can go back to broodily staring at her?"

"Just tell me for my own peace of mind."

"Okay, they're not touching."

"Really?"

"Really. Not even looking at each other."

Warren looked behind him.

Emily's head was leaning on Quinn's arm.

"I thought you said they weren't touching." Warren growled at Layla, who shrugged helplessly. This was worse than just _touching. _This was Emily initiating warm and fuzzy behavior. That shit didn't fly.

"Well, he kind of won." Will shrugged innocently, "I heard rumors they're dating now."

"Women aren't prizes to be won, Will." A spoon was waved warningly in the boy's direction.

"Sorry, Layla. I just meant that he got the most out of the situation."

"Shut up, Stronghold." Warren growled. "That bastard just stuck his tongue out at me. That's it."

He managed to stand up for about two seconds before Layla shoved him back into his seat with the help of Will's rippling pectorals. Damn friends always getting in his way.

"Going over there and making a scene is only going to make her even angrier at you. And where will she find comfort? In Quinn's arms."

"She already is. At least I can break his neck and make it a little harder for him to gloat."

"And have her hate you for killing one of her closest friends."

"He's touching her. He's _mocking _me. He dies."

Warren was well beyond steaming now. It was all Layla could hope for that the smoke alarms wouldn't go off again. She even started fanning him with her homework.

"Control yourself, Warren! I have an art project drying in the classroom, and if it gets wet then Emily mad at you will be the least of your problems."

"She's been learning how to grow poisons." Will mentioned helpfully.

Warren took deep meditative breaths and exhaled loudly. Last year's meditating really helped him in the long run. Although he would never admit that to his former batshit crazy teacher.

"Don't worry, she'll eventually get over it and accept you again. Hopefully." Layla beamed happily and patted him on the head as if he were a pouting child.

He growled and shook off her hand before sighing again. "At least you're on my side with this."

"What are you talking about, Warren?" Layla chirped innocently, "I'm on her side completely. I'm just here so Will won't say anything stupid that'll make you do something even more stupid. Magenta is over there with her representing the both of us. I mean, I thought that Emily would be the one to make a stupid mistake. You seemed the more level headed of the two." Layla sighed into her apple juice, "You really disappointed me on this one, Warren. How am I supposed to take your advice seriously now? Our Paper Lantern talks will never be the same now."

"I get it. I'm stupid."

Ha! Will pumped a mental fist into the air. Now Will wasn't the only stupid one with relationships. Along with Zach. And Ethan. And even Quinn.

Oh God, all the men in their group were hopeless with girls.

But atleast he was one of the few with girlfriends.

* * *

"Oh my god, he's really glaring now. I think he's _steaming_." Janice giggled. She was really getting a kick out of this. "Do you think he'd have a heart attack if you two smooched? Better yet, smooch both of us. And Ethan. And Principal Powers."

"I'm not a whore, Janice. Get your perverted kicks elsewhere." I sighed, rolling my eyes and munching on my fritters. Quinn snuck a few into his mouth, and since I made more than enough for just me I let him.

It was depressing, having so much food. Usually I left some at home for Mark to eat and some for Warren in another container and then just nibbled on the leftovers. Now I was going to get morbidly obese with home-knitted sweaters and thousands of cats roaming around everywhere. I'll be cat-hair lady. I'd knit sweaters out of cat hair.

"Oh my _god,_" Janice repeated, rolling her eyes, "That was supposed to make you _laugh_. Not get all depressed. Jesus."

Betsy gave her a warning glance.

"Yeah, yeah, blaspheme. Sorry babe."

Rachel glared possessively.

"I think you should just stop talking today." Magenta suggests, munching on one of my fritters, "Goddamn, these are good."

Betsy made a little annoyed huff, but then just gave up on caring. Good. Another teen converted to the apathetic side. Maybe I'll get her addicted to thick black eyeliner.

Rachel gave me a glare. Wow. She's a huffy thing. They both are. But at least Betsy doesn't get huffy at my _thoughts. _Yeah, I went there. Firecrotch. Take that stereotypical insult you redhead, you.

"So what's the game plan then?" Janice asked giddily, "How long are we going for the pissed-off cold shoulder before you allow him to lick your dominatrix boots."

"I'm wearing sneakers. And there is no game plan. I'm not a maneater like you or Quinn." Quinn looked insulted. He was a _player_. Not a maneater, "I'm done with him."

"Really?" Quinn asked hopefully.

"What? But... I thought you two..." Janice trailed off, looking between the two of us confusedly.

"Well we're not." I snapped.

"It was that bad?"

I glared at Janice until she got the hint and stuffed her mouth full with fritters.

* * *

Janice stopped in front of him, folded her arms, and glared. Hard.

"I shapeshift. I don't blow up heads by thinking it... Be thankful of that."

She brushed past him, hitting his shoulder harshly with her bony shoulders as she passed.

He sighed. At least that wasn't as intimidating as that one mousy looking girl's quiet promise of endless nightmares. He was too _wary of her powers _and _not afraid of her _to fall asleep that whole week.

Nor did it make him as angry as Quinn's brief statement towards him during Gym. He had been minding his own business, brooding about being such an idiot, and then the albino just came up to him and said in passing, "Em says I'm not allowed to make you drown yourself in a used toilet," He then looked him up and down before turning away, "Shame."

A fireball _accidentally _set Quinn's pants on fire.

But Emily has said _nothing _since the hospital. He's tried to get her alone, multiple times, but not only was she extremely skilled in avoiding his attempts, she was good at avoiding the very _sight _of him. It was a little insulting, the efforts that she used to avoid him. But at the same time a complement to his affect on her. If only that complement didn't make him feel like a complete asshole for hurting her so much.

It would suck if this was going to be a pattern from now on. This year was his year to be an asshole, last year was Will's, and it'll keep going on year after year until everyone's had their share of stupid mistakes.

Maybe it was just a high school thing.

* * *

"Cajun! The phone's ringin'!"

"Dis Cajun busy!"

"Busy with what? Pickin' up the damn phone?"

"_Non, _de little _diable _dat won't take de-_merde_-bat'!"

"Mah nails 're dryin' though!" Rogue whined a bit. She just bought a nice coral shade that made her pale hands look not _as _pale, and it was _expensive. _"And don't swear in front of our kid!"

"Screw de damn nails, Rogue! Pick up de phone!"

Rogue huffed, annoyed, and picked it up a ring before it went to voicemail.

"What'choo want?" She snapped into the phone.

"_Rogue?_"

"Scott? What's wrong?" He sounded like a puppy started dancing the mambo in front of him and then spontaneously combusted.

"My daughter..."

"Oh, you heard? Her and Betsy make a cute couple, raight? Whoda thought."

"My daughter is gay." She could hear him blinking through the phone.

"Not _gay, _sugah. That's so blunt. Just... open-minded. Hell, more than half the voices in mah head are men. Ah'm open-minded too."

"I'm not going to have grandchildren." He wasn't _listening to her._

"You blast lasers out yer eyes, ya don't predict the future. Be happy for Rachel. She hasn't dated anyone in a while. _Plus, _Betsy's Sam's daughter. You know how much Ah love him, nothin' bad can come from his parenting."

"You're not going to let me deny this, are you?"

"Not a chance. Now I already invited Wanda an' her family over for Easter dinner at mah place, so it's your job to get your daughter and Sam's people over. And try to get along with everyone, please? This is the first time Emily's going to meet everyone. _Including_ our recently paroled Pietro. I don't want you blastin' any holes in the wall."

"Don't worry, I have some ounce of self control. Even though the men you hang around with are near impossible." He said, referring to Logan. And Remy. And Pietro. And sometimes even James Maddrox, who she had adopted into their unorthodox family when he turned up at Xavier's for a free place to crash.

"I hang around you, don't I? Damn, I haven't heard Remy for awhile. Think our son killed him."

"It was nice talking to you."

"Me too. Easter, got it?"

"Right."

"And I'm here to talk, if ya need it. Not just about Rachel. Anythin', no matter how long it's been."

"Thanks, Rogue. But I think I already spoke about Jean enough you're getting a little sick of her name."

"Scott..." SHe said uneasily, wondering how to continue, "You know Ah never cared much fo' Jean. Not cause she was a bad person, she was wonderful and Ah know why ya love her. All that drama with Logan, y'know? But Ah cin never get sick of anythin' ya love, Scott. Yo' mah friend, and ya deserve tah talk t'someone who cares about you without all that psychological babble Hank always spews."

"Thanks, Rogue. Really, though I'm fine. I'll see you Easter."

"Kay, sug."


	37. Making Peace

As soon as Layla approached me afterschool, I knew I was screwed. The hippie was like Oprah or something. A scrawny, redheaded treehugging Oprah.

"Listen, you don't have to tell me the specifics, but.. He's hurting. A lot." A guilt-trip? That ain't gonna motherbleeping happen.

"Good then. Have him suffer. A lot. A thousand years of suffering upon his ungrateful ass face."

"That's a little harsh. I mean, this is high school. What he did couldn't have been that bad."

"It was! He lied to me! He lied to me about something important and emotionally traumatizing!"

"You might not know this, Emily, but," Layla cast a wary glance around her before leaning in and whispering, "Boys are really stupid."

"No fucking duh."

"So unless you want to swear off boys forever, then accept that and learn to forgive boys for their mental shortcomings. Whatever his reasonings were, I'm pretty sure that they were brilliant in his mind."

"It was really stupid, though."

"For us girls."

I spent a few moments in silence, considering the situation. I never really had a reason to be _really _angry at someone before, so I didn't know if I was the grudge holding type.

But Warren really was a sweetheart sometimes, even though he was stupid. And he was a hot badass, which I really really liked. Not _one guy _in this school wore a leather jacket. Ever.

I guess I wasn't the grudge holding type.

"If he ever does anything that bad again, it won't matter how many times you try and play mediator. I'm hating him for life and running off to Hawaii with Quinn."

"As any reasonable woman would do."

The door slammed open.

"Emily! Layla! Come quick!" Ethan and Zack, both out of breath and unable to run from the entrance of the door to where we were sitting in the empty classroom. They sagged into each other for a moment before continuing on, "Warren is killing Quinn!"

"What!" I shrieked.

"Quinn started the fight, but Warren lost control and is beating the crap out of him!"

"Those stupid little... Gah! Where!"

"What?" Zach breathed out.

"Where the hell are they!"

"Back of the school."

The two of them are dead.

When we reached the two of them, my anger doubled itself until it was this big giant monstrous thing that wanted to eat everything in sight and then puke it out on whatever was left.

"You two are so stupid!" I shouted, and Warren paused in his beating up Quinn's swollen bloody face.

I rushed over to them, glaring at Warren and shoving him off of Quinn. I checked his pulse, and he was still alive. And somewhat lucid.

"Dumbass. What were you thinking, fighting the jackass? He's twice your size."

He gargled in response.

"What! You think that you need to defend my honor or something?"

If someone kept letting him talk, I'd beat him up myself.

"I'll take him to the nurse." Warren interrupted, shaking his head and scooping the idiot up.

"What, first you beat him up and then you carry him like a pretty little bride?"

"The idiot pushed my buttons and I snapped. Doesn't mean I want him to die."

Quinn is pretty good at making people want to beat him up.

"Why didn't he tell you to stop?" I asked, brushing back the idiots hair and briefly considering slapping him in the face.

"Punched him in the mouth. He was too busy flailing to say anything. Think I might have a tooth in my fist." Warren shrugged, and Quinn groaned in pain.

So _badass._

* * *

Quinn passed out as soon as he saw his tooth being plucked out from Warren's fist.

Everyone had gone home except for Warren and me, who sat in one of the waiting chairs outside. Warren was being a good guy and offered both of us rides home.

It was awkward. And silent. And I felt like a fumbling, blushing idiot again.

"Perkins."

I twitched in response.

"I'm calling in one of those three honest questions, Perkins. No avoiding me or getting your lackeys to distract me until you can escape."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The questions or the avoiding."

"I know I'm avoiding you. I'm asking about the questions."

"The three you promised me when I lent you a phone."

A moment of silence passed while I racked my memory.

"You bitch! Fine, ask away."

"Why won't you let me apologize?"

"You've apologized a bunch of times already, bastard. What are you talking about?"

"I don't mean useless things like words. I meant you won't let me make it up to you. I'm trying here; I know I was stupid. With everything. I _know _that."

"What, so you expect me to just forget everything that you lied to me about?"

"You know that I hated doing it."

"Because you were selfish and stupid!"

"You've forgiven those things before. You're friends with that redhead, right?"

"I only forgave her because I know that she's screwed up in the head!"

"And I'm not?"

"I wasn't dating her! You're supposed to be the levelheaded one! The _smart _one, dammit, that wouldn't hurt me no matter fucking what! And you ruined it! How the hell am I supposed to forgive you for that?"

"So you found out I wasn't perfect?"

I crossed my arms and huffed. Stupid bastard had a point.

"I can't trust you now." I point out.

"I know."

"I probably won't be able to trust you for awhile. I don't know if I ever will."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and looked me in the eyes with that intense gaze of his, almost burning me up with all the emotions he kept locked up in there.

"I know. But... It doesn't matter. I'll do something. Anything. I just need you back in my life." Even when he was sounding a little desperate, he looked badass. How the hell did he do it?

"I'll talk to you." I sighed, "But I'm not dating you. Fucker."

Atleast for now.

They both leaned back in their chairs, more relaxed than they've been in days. Warren even felt a smile coming on. Hopefully it wasn't nearly as goofy-looking as Strongholds.

FIN

Author's Note: What? The end? That's it! You're kidding me!

No. I'm not. It's not a happy fuzzy-feelings Disney ending with the kiss underneath all the fireworks, but its better than it ending with him angsty and her hating him. This is turning into a series, I think, so rest assured that this is not the _final _ending.


	38. Preview

**PREVIEW:**

_Warren Peace was a hero. Really._

_They made business cards._

_Hotshot. Certified Superhero. XXX-XXX-XXXX._

_Being a superhero meant, along with the powers, he was trained in what was right and wrong. He was levelheaded in the face of certain death, and he had a fancy-ass uniform._

_Right now, out of the rather short list of requirements for being a superhero, he just had the superpowers. And if anything, he had too much power._

_Honestly? He blamed Skeetzo. The poor excuse of a supervillain just lived to try his patience. First, he sent plasma blast after blast into the crowd (but did they really have to watch all the time? His job wasn't like a wrestling match. There was no ring.) Then, the little bastard went and got a hostage. Some teenage punk with bright neon blue hair and big startled eyes that looked at him like a Bambi deer and for a second flashed a fiery amber that just got his blood boiling._

_Well, his blood burning would be more accurate._

_Warren Peace, in that situation, did what every hero in that situation was trained to do. Save the citizen, then secure the villain._

_So he ended up burning a large crater into the ground with his enthusiasm (his powers have been getting a little more kick aas he's been getting older.) And so what if his fire-proof uniform got a little destroyed around the arms and torso. He may have been a little out of line when he started wailing on the guy, while he was on fire, and Will may have gotten a little singed when he tried to drag Warren off the bastard... So what if he got carried away. It's not like Stronghold was invincible. Warren's sure he got hurt before... Sometime. He definitely got burned before his powers kicked in._

_Skeetzo may have filed a restraining order an sued for hospital bills and the like, but the girl was safe and that was all that mattered._

_The bit about the uniform getting destroyed, though, was a little bit of a problem._

* * *

**Author's Note: **The new story is up! Right now it's called "JEM incorporated", but might be changed soon. It's them all grown up, but I might do a few one shots of their high school days, or flashbacks.


End file.
